


Rescue

by mag_lex



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Doctor!Whump, F/F, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Najia will pop up in chapters 3 and 7, Torture, Whumptober, thasmin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2020-11-25 17:30:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20915879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mag_lex/pseuds/mag_lex
Summary: Six times Yaz rescues the Doctor and one time the Doctor returns the favour.





	1. Hair

**Author's Note:**

> I love whump so when I found out that such a thing as Whumptober existed...I mean...yeah, I couldn't not. I've started a collection for similar fics (Thasmin Whumptober 2019 - https://archiveofourown.org/collections/ThasminWhump) so if you feel inspired, please do add your fics there! I'd love to see what you come up with.
> 
> I have ideas for the other chapters but I'm also open to prompts!

The jungle was so humid that the Doctor's hair had started to curl within minutes of them leaving the TARDIS. Now, a couple of hours later, it was the waviest that Yaz had ever seen it. Yaz always thought the Doctor’s hair looked nice with a curl to it. She regularly wondered what it would be like to touch it. Would it feel soft against her fingers? When it was straight it framed the Doctor’s face wonderfully, falling against the line of her jaw just so. She'd started to grow it out a little in recent months and Yaz thought it suited her even better. 

She watched as the Doctor ran a hand through her hair in frustration, grateful that she could tie her own hair up. It was too hot to wear it down, and even her ponytail was starting to make the back of her neck itch. 

"Okay. I think we're a tiny bit lost."

"You don't say?" 

Graham was pink in the face, his ever-present jacket slung over an arm with the shirt-sleeve rolled up. 

"Yeah, I'm sure I recognise that tree," Ryan agreed, pointing to a colossal trunk that dominated a clearing to their right. "Could we have a breather? I’m boiling.”

The Doctor nodded, looking defeated. Yaz's heart went out to her. The Doctor would deny it but Yaz knew she took it to heart when she thought she'd let them down, even if the situation was out of her control. And getting lost was easy to do when the trees all looked the same. Distantly, Yaz wondered how they'd even find the TARDIS. She turned on the spot, trying to familiarise herself with her surroundings. Normally she was fairly observant, but today she’d been entirely distracted. 

She watched as Ryan headed towards the trunk, then perched on it. The moment he did, something inside the hollowed-out wood made a rustling sound. Ryan instantly jumped to his feet. 

“What was that?!”

Yaz stifled a giggle at his reaction. She was genuinely curious about what he’d disturbed, though - they hadn’t seen much in the way of wildlife during their wanderings and it sounded too large to be an insect. 

When a rather cute-looking furry head popped out of the end, Yaz softened. It looked like a monkey at first glance, but as it started to emerge from the felled tree, she was startled to realise that it had the mouth of a snake, clever, red eyes, and opposable thumbs. It stood fully, growing to the height of a small child. 

“What on earth…”

“Ryan, move away. Slowly.”

The Doctor’s voice was calm but there was an undercurrent of tension in it and Yaz found herself taking an unconscious step backwards, snapping a twig underfoot. At the sound, the creature turned its head to look at Yaz and took a step towards her, then another as she took another step back back. Yaz swallowed hard as she realised it had taken a liking to her, its beady eyes fixed on her own. 

“Yaz, stay calm. It’s not going to hurt you.”

There was the whirr of a sonic screwdriver. 

“You sure about that?” Yaz tried to joke. “I think I look like dinner.”

Yaz watched the Doctor out of the corner of her eye, unwilling to break eye contact with the creature, which tilted its head as it stared at her. Its arms were long, almost like gorilla arms, knuckles trailing the ground as it took another step. 

“Doc, what’s the plan?” 

Yaz was wondering the same thing. Trust Graham to be practical. She couldn’t see any of her friends now; they were no longer in her eye line. The Doctor must have moved them away. _ Where was she? _

The creature sniffed the air, head raised, and Yaz took another step backwards. Her heart hammering. Something didn’t feel right, despite the Doctor’s reassurances that it wouldn’t hurt her. That sounded just like something she’d tell someone to keep them calm.

Her suspicions were proved correct when the animal stopped sniffing, snapping its gaze back to Yaz, mouth opening to show several rows of gleaming, sharp teeth. They wouldn’t have looked out of place on a great white shark and Yaz broke out in a cold sweat.

“Yeah, I definitely look like dinner.”

Yaz took another step backwards, startling herself by colliding bodily with a tree behind her. The instant she did, her gaze wavered, and the un-monkey leapt into action. 

“No!”

Yaz heard Ryan shouting, the rustling of leaves, the sound of boots hitting the ground. She shut her eyes, not wanting to see what happened next. The Doctor would get her out of it, she knew, but what happened in between was probably going to hurt.

At the last second, Yaz felt, rather than saw, a body in front of her own. She knew, instinctively, that it was the Doctor’s. Of course it was. She opened her eyes, shocked that the Doctor had even made it in time; there had been hardly any space left remaining between herself and that mouthful of teeth, and boy, that thing could move. The Doctor must have been close by that whole time, just out of view.

“Doctor!”

Someone called her name but Yaz could only watch, horrified, as the creature leapt, jaws wide, and clamped down viciously on the Doctor’s thigh. 

“Ow!”

Surely that had to be the understatement of the century? Instantly, Yaz felt guilt and horror wash over her in waves. The Doctor span on the spot, her face a picture of agony as her hands came down to try and pull the animal off her leg but to no avail. 

“Stubborn little-”

Blood was starting to stream down the Doctor’s leg, rivers of crimson painting her exposed shin. 

Yaz reached out, her hands clamping onto the creature’s head as she tried to help the Doctor remove it. She could feel the bone of the creature’s jaw, the strength in it. It wasn’t budging, even when the Doctor fell to the jungle floor. Instead, it seemed to be working on tearing a chunk of flesh from the Doctor’s thigh. Yaz felt sick as she felt the motion beneath her hands. She was pretty sure she could hear it eating.

“Shit. How do we get it off?” 

Graham and Ryan had joined them, at last, and Yaz looked at them helplessly. 

“It won’t budge,” she said, her voice wobbling. 

“Let me at it,” Ryan threatened, brandishing a branch he’d retrieved en route. 

“No, don’t!” the Doctor cried, raising a hand as if to stop him. Yaz knew she would try to stop them from using violence. But her protests were weakened by the fact she could barely hold herself upright, half collapsed on the ground. 

Yaz realised with dawning horror that she was kneeling in a pool of the Doctor’s blood. It felt warm and far too real. Desperate times called for desperate measures and Yaz certainly wasn’t going to just sit idly by and watch the Doctor be eaten alive.

“Hit it,” she shouted at Ryan. “We need to get it off her, now!”

But before he could take a swing, there was a screeching sound from the trees. 

The un-monkey stopped chewing, finally detaching itself from the Doctor’s leg with a sickening slurp. Yaz’s stomach turned when she saw blood-tinged saliva dribbling from it’s open mouth, and she couldn’t even bring herself to look at the Doctor’s leg. She did, however, chance a look at the Doctor’s face and realised she had passed out. That in itself was frightening enough. 

“Oi! You little bastard.”

Graham had retrieved a sandwich from his coat pocket. The animal tilted its head, red eyes now fixed on new prey. 

“Gross,” Ryan muttered, pulling a face as it drooled blood onto the earth. 

“Fetch,” Graham instructed, lobbing his sandwiches as far as he could into the trees. 

The creature was off like a shot, and the relief Yaz felt when it scarpered was immense. There was every possibility that it might come back but if it did, she wasn’t going to let it near any of them. The Doctor might not approve of violence but she’d make a case for self-defence, surely?

“I hope it likes ham and cheese,” Graham grumbled, rolling up his jacket and carefully lifting the Doctor’s head to place it underneath. Yaz was touched by the gesture, but quickly realised that she was out of her depth. Her first aid training had been fairly basic; even so, when she glanced at the wound on the Doctor’s leg, she was pretty sure the creature had hit an artery of some kind. 

“She’s bleeding loads,” said Ryan, and Yaz had never seen him look so worried. She bit back her first response, which was to agree in panic. A level head had never been so crucial. 

“Pressure,” Yaz murmured. “We need to apply pressure. Then we need to get out of here.”

She looked to Graham and Ryan, eyes alighting on the hoodie Ryan had wrapped around his waist. 

“Chuck me your jumper,” she said, arm outstretched impatiently. “Quickly, Ryan.”

Ryan didn’t complain at her tone, fumbling with the knot at his waist as he handed it to Yaz. Graham started to unbuckle his belt.

“Tourniquet,” he explained, when he saw Yaz’s questioning look.

Belt in hand, Graham gingerly lifted the Doctor’s leg so that Yaz could get the material underneath it. Ryan belatedly reached for the Doctor’s boot to keep her leg steady as Yaz worked. 

“Her leg looks bad,” he said, and Yaz couldn’t help but be irritated that he’d even said the words aloud. This was the Doctor. She needed their help, not statements of the obvious. Deep down, Yaz knew she was being over-sensitive, but it was hard not to when the Doctor had been hurt trying to protect her.

“She’ll be fine,” Yaz murmured, watching the Doctor’s face for signs of pain as her leg was lowered and she started to tie the hoodie around her leg. She barely flinched, even as Yaz tightened the knot. Her face was so much paler than usual that she looked dead, and Yaz reached for one of her wrists with bloody fingers, staining the Doctor’s blue coat red as she tried to find her pulse.

Yaz held her breath as she waited for signs of life beneath her fingertips. They emerged slowly, too slowly for Yaz’s liking, but they were there. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“We need to move,” she said, and Graham nodded. 

“I think I know where we are,” Ryan said, and Yaz could have hugged him. “I knew I recognised this bit. We’re not far.”

“First things first,” Graham said, holding out his belt. “The Doc’s still bleeding and we can’t move her like this.”

Yaz was dismayed to realise he was right. Despite her best efforts to apply pressure to the wound, the Doctor’s blood had completely soaked through Ryan’s jumper.

“Right,” she breathed. “Tourniquet.”

There was a rustling sound from the trees. Panic seized Yaz once again, her heart pounding. Adrenaline was a wonderful drug and Yaz distantly wondered how long she could keep running on it. Until she knew the Doctor was safe, she wouldn’t stop.

“Let’s get moving,” she murmured, watching as Ryan helped Graham manoeuvre the Doctor’s leg again to slide the belt underneath it. She had a feeling this part would definitely rouse the Doctor and she was proved correct when Graham tightened the belt.

The Doctor’s hands started reaching for her leg before her eyes were even open, a groan tumbling from pale, parted lips. They looked so pale that all Yaz wanted to do was kiss the life back into them.

Instead, Yaz tried to get the Doctor’s attention in a more normal fashion. 

“Hey, Doctor? You back with us?”

Yaz was impressed by how calm she sounded. Her training certainly came in handy, although she wished she didn’t have to use it like this.

The Doctor’s eyelids fluttered weakly and Yaz hated herself for it, but she tapped the Doctor’s cheek to keep her awake. It would make things easier if the Doctor was conscious for the return journey. Her fingers left bloody marks on the Doctor’s cool cheek and Yaz paled at the sight. Her stomach did a somersault when she realised it was only going to get worse when they had to deal with the gaping mess that was her thigh.

“No sleeping, now.”

“Don’t sleep,” the Doctor muttered quietly. “Just close my eyes.”

“Keep them open, then. Please? You need to stay awake so we can get out of here.”

The Doctor did as she was asked, fixing them on Yaz. Even half-conscious, her gaze did something to Yaz that she couldn’t quite describe. There was something to her gaze that Yaz was unable to decipher, some kind of communication that she was unable to read. Instead, Yaz reached for the Doctor’s hand, focusing on the tangible. That, she could deal with.

“What did you do that for? Jumping in front of me like that,” she asked, giving the Doctor’s hand a comforting squeeze when Graham tightened the belt again. The Doctor moaned in pain, shifting on the ground as she tried to escape it. 

“Sorry, Doc. I’m sorry. All done.”

Graham sounded as contrite as Yaz felt. He pulled a face when he realised what was to come.

“Well. Actually…not quite. We need to get you on your feet.”

There was more rustling in the trees, closer this time. 

“Ryan?” Yaz asked, trying to keep her voice level. “How far away from the TARDIS do you think we are?”

He scratched his head, eyes darting around the clearing as he tried to determine where the rustling was coming from. 

“Half a mile?” He shrugged. Yaz realised it was his best guess but it was all they had.

“Shit. Okay.”

Yaz started to rummage carefully in the Doctor’s coat pockets. 

“You could buy me a drink first,” the Doctor quipped with a pained grin.

“TARDIS key,” Yaz explained, ignoring the flush she felt at the Doctor’s words. But terror made her bold. _ Anything to keep the Doctor talking._

“Of all the times for you to flirt, you choose now?”

“Got to take my chances when I can,” the Doctor mumbled, eyes sliding closed again. 

“Oh no, you don’t,” Yaz muttered, shaking the Doctor’s shoulders a little rougher than she intended to. Fear was eating away at her nerves, fear and a burning desire to get the Doctor to safety. She’d lost so much blood that Yaz was amazed she was still talking. With an internal cheer, Yaz retrieved the key and shoved it in her jeans pocket.

“You’re going to stay with me a little longer. Then I’ll buy you that drink. Deal?”

The Doctor nodded slightly, and that would have to do.

“Ready?” Yaz turned and asked the others, who nodded grimly. None of them were looking forward to the return journey. Yaz helped pull the Doctor upright, encouraging her to use her good leg to help them, but she was weaker than Yaz had ever thought possible. She knew it would make sense for both men to help convey the Doctor to safety but Yaz felt responsible, and she knew she could be strong. 

The heat was unbearable now, the humidity closing in on them and making the air feel thick. Added to that was the Doctor’s weight, split between Yaz and Ryan as they started to take tentative steps, following Graham’s lead. It was like doing some weird three-legged race, except Yaz was certain that even at primary school she’d have walked better than she was now. The Doctor’s bad leg was pressed against her own, blood soaking through her jeans. 

There was rustling all around them, now. Yaz wondered how many of those creatures were in the trees, watching them. Graham certainly didn’t have enough sandwiches to distract them.

“Faster,” Yaz panted with exertion. Again, police training had come to her rescue, but it was still tough going. 

“Trying,” the Doctor moaned, and Yaz felt sick. 

“Not you, Doctor. Just focus on staying awake. We’ll get you back.”

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed. “Just think of us like a taxi.”

“That would be - argh - handy right about now,” the Doctor winced, and Yaz glanced sideways to see her face screwed up in pain. She swallowed hard when the Doctor pressed her face into her neck, feeling her breaths come fast and hot against the sensitive skin.

“I think I see it!” Graham’s voice came from ahead.

“Her,” the Doctor groused, lips grazing Yaz’s skin. Yaz almost stumbled, and Ryan cast a worried look her way. 

“Alright?” he asked, also breathing hard with the effort of half-carrying the Doctor. 

“I will be when we get there,” Yaz replied, gritting her teeth as she adjusted her grip on the Doctor’s waist. For someone so skinny, she was a dead weight.

“Doctor? You still with us?” Yaz squeezed lightly, feeling the subtle movement of the Doctor’s breathing under her hand.

“Not going anywhere,” the Doctor replied, eyes closed. But her weight was starting to increase, and Ryan gave a yelp of alarm as she finally slipped from their grasp. 

“Graham!” he shouted in panic, and Yaz did her best to help him ease the Doctor to the ground. She looked up in time to see Graham re-emerge from the trees, and in the distance was the TARDIS. 

“Oh, thank god,” she breathed, eyes roaming over the Doctor’s eerily still form. 

“I think she’s just fainted.”

It felt stupid to say the words aloud but they seemed to reassure the others and the three of them stood for a moment, catching their breath. 

But before they could gear up for round two, a familiar shape emerged from the trees. Ryan groaned. 

“Not again! Piss off.”

Yaz pushed herself to her feet, anger and exhaustion fighting for dominance. Anger won. All she knew was that the Doctor was dead to the world behind her, bleeding out because of the creature in front of her. It felt like someone had lit a fuse inside Yaz, a fuse she didn’t know she had. There wasn’t time to think things through, though; she had to act on instinct. An instinct to protect the Doctor at all costs. Without a second thought Yaz ran at it, baring her own teeth and screaming in an attempt to scare it away. To her immense surprise, her approach worked. She stopped short of the treeline, bracing her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. 

Then, she started to laugh. It had worked. She’d never acted so recklessly or in anger before. But the situation called for it.

“Yaz! Are you mental?” Ryan cried out in disbelief. Graham’s mouth was open in shock. 

Yaz couldn’t stop laughing. She frightened herself with it. She’d never been so scared in her life, even when she’d been confronted by a thug with a knife in a Sheffield alleyway. This scenario blew everything else out of the water. 

Abruptly, she stopped laughing and felt a wave of relief follow in its wake. Then hot tears were rolling down her cheeks and Graham looked at her with sympathy.

“Yaz...mate. You’re okay.”

Ryan pulled her into a hug. 

“I-”

She grasped hold of his t-shirt, gathering herself. 

“‘m sorry,” she mumbled, pulling away as she wiped at her cheeks. Belatedly, she realised she’d left blood all over Ryan’s white t-shirt, blood that was probably now all over her own face. The Doctor’s blood. 

Bile suddenly rose in her throat, hot and acidic, and she turned to vomit. Ryan’s hand came to rest on her heaving shoulders as he muttered words of reassurance, but they fell on deaf ears. 

Distantly, she heard Graham approach. 

“Yaz, love, not to rush you, but…”

Yaz nodded, wiping her mouth on her sleeve to avoid getting even more blood on her face. Her eyes were stinging and she blinked repeatedly in an attempt to stop the world looking so blurry. Her throat burned and she could taste her breakfast, but she felt better.

“We need to go,” she agreed. She looked back to the Doctor, who hadn’t moved a muscle since they’d dropped her. “She needs our help.”

It seemed to take forever but between the three of them, they managed to get the Doctor upright. Her injured leg was dragging on the ground and Yaz did her best to prevent it from happening, but the rustling sounds had returned. The three companions looked at one another and nodded almost simultaneously, wordlessly agreeing to pick up the pace. 

After torturous minutes of dragging the Doctor to safety, the TARDIS loomed large between the trees. Yaz couldn’t help but remember how they’d started their morning, the Doctor excited to explore a new planet and meet the locals. She wondered what the Doctor would make of it all once she woke up._ If she woke up._

“Graham? Hold her a second,” said Yaz, transferring the Doctor’s weight to him before reaching into her pocket for the key. She was more than ready to defend the Doctor should one of those creatures make a reappearance, but she doubted they’d be so easily scared again. Luckily, she didn’t have to worry; the key slid home without issue and she opened the door quickly, saying a silent prayer as she entered the TARDIS and held open the door for the others. 

Graham and Ryan shuffled in, opting to carry the Doctor between them; Graham’s hands were under her shoulders and Ryan had hold of her ankles, averting his gaze from her bloody leg. Carefully, they deposited her on the purple sofa that had recently made an appearance in the console room.

There was no question of even attempting to take off, but at least they could lock the door behind them, which Yaz did as quickly as she could. She breathed a sigh of relief as she heard the click resonate around the room.

Of all things, the sound of the lock turning woke the Doctor. She raised her head from the sofa, frowning in confusion. She looked like she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards.

“What did I miss?”

* * *

Several hours later, when Yaz was satisfied that the Doctor’s leg had stopped bleeding, the adrenaline wore off. She had pulled a chair close to the couch, determined to keep an eye on the Doctor until she was certain she was recovering sufficiently.

“Yaz, I’m fine.” 

The Doctor watched Yaz as she fiddled with the edge of the bandage, tucking the ends in just so. Yaz had surprised herself by dressing the wound without any more vomiting incidents; Graham had been a calming presence, handing her the supplies she needed, but Ryan had to leave the room. 

“You look like a ghost,” Yaz replied. “Lie back.”

With several minor protests, the Doctor settled back against the cushions. 

“You look like you’ve seen one,” the Doctor retorted. Yaz had certainly felt better. She was running on fumes, delaying the inevitable crash until she knew the Doctor was alright. But she felt useless, poorly equipped to deal with the situation. Even her attempt at bandaging looked amateur. The Doctor deserved better.

“I’m sorry,” she said, hands falling back to her lap. She stared at them, unable to look at the other woman. “I’ve done what I can, but-”

“Yaz, stop.”

The Doctor’s tone was blunt and it stopped Yaz in her tracks.

“You saved my life.”

Yaz shook her head, hands clenched. There was still blood on them, dried and cracking over her knuckles. She wondered how long it would take to get off. 

“Look at me, please.”

Again, the Doctor’s tone brooked no arguments. Yaz’s eyes instantly locked with the Doctor’s own, the gaze intense. There were no barriers; no pretences. The Doctor seemed to falter for a moment before continuing.

“It was my fault you were there in the first place. The three of you got me out of there using your wits and your brains. I’m so proud of you. Especially you, Yaz.”

Yaz bit her lip. She normally loved receiving compliments from the Doctor - she lived for them - but she wasn’t sure she deserved this one. 

The Doctor shifted, starting to become animated as she tried to convince Yaz that she had, truly, saved her life, but the movement only served to jostle her leg and she let slip a cry of pain. 

“You should focus on resting,” Yaz chided. “I can give you some painkillers?”

The Doctor shook her head briefly. 

“Don’t need them,” she mumbled, letting her head fall back onto the cushion. She sighed, her eyes closing in concentration. “Just you.”

She reached blindly for Yaz’s hand, which the younger woman supplied instantly. The Doctor briefly tightened her grip. A smile tugged at her lips. 

“Better,” she said, and then her hand became slack in Yaz’s own as she entered a fitful sleep.

Yaz didn’t dare to move in case she woke her. The others had left them alone long ago, waved away by the Doctor as she assured them that Yaz would look after her. And Yaz didn’t take that lightly. She listened to the Doctor breathe, the regular rhythm calming her frayed nerves. But there was still blood on the Doctor’s face, from where Yaz had touched it. Reluctantly letting go of the Doctor’s hand and placing it on her chest, Yaz reached for some fresh cotton wool and water. 

She gently wiped the traces of blood off the Doctor’s cheek, taking the opportunity to observe the Doctor up close. Her eyelashes were longer than Yaz had realised. Her nose twitched in her sleep. The Doctor frowned, moaning in pain, and that line in her brow deepened. Yaz couldn’t tear her eyes away. The longer she looked, the more she saw.

Eventually, though, her eyes drifted towards the Doctor’s hair. Hesitantly, she held out a trembling hand.

It felt softer than she’d ever imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can find me on twitter @_mag_lex
> 
> All my fics can now be found at maglexfic dot wordpress dot com. I'll be posting all new works there going forward and not on ao3 so I'd recommend checking it out and subscribing!


	2. Mouth

Whenever the Doctor was confused, or thinking, or just generally being herself, she had a tendency to let her mouth hang open. Yaz had found it odd at first but she’d grown to love it as one of the Doctor’s many, many quirks. She had started something of a mental catalogue of them and when she was alone, or bored, or, to be honest, had more than a few minutes free to think, Yaz would open up that mental list and think about the woman that had fallen into her life.

But as satisfying a hobby as it might have been, cataloguing the Doctor was also making life difficult. When she was back at home and on shifts, just thinking about the Doctor was enough to make Yaz want to pack it all in and spend all of her time travelling with her. To focus on the Doctor’s eccentricities simply made Yaz miss her even more. 

“Isn’t this beautiful?” the Doctor said, her mouth turned up in a delighted grin. Her arms were spread wide as she turned on the spot, taking in the scenery and encouraging her companions to do the same. Yaz made a concerted effort to look around her, realising the Doctor was right. They’d landed in a field full of flowers, on a hill that gently tapered down to a lake. The sun was golden yellow, the sky light blue and hazy. It was a perfect, summery day, not dissimilar from ones Yaz occasionally experienced on Earth. Except they were on the other side of the galaxy.

Sometimes, Yaz had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. 

“It’s something else, Doc,” Graham agreed, his own jaw dropping at the beautiful vista. "Perfect spot for a picnic if you ask me." He clapped his hands together, rubbing them with glee at the prospect of food.

"Graham! We didn't come here to eat."

"What did we come here for, then?" Graham frowned, only half serious. Yaz hid a smile beneath her hand as the Doctor opened and shut her mouth briefly. 

"To help."

Graham made a show of looking around him, mirroring the Doctor’s previous pose and gesturing to their surroundings. Yaz couldn't help but do the same. The only things surrounding them were grass, bees, and the occasional bird. A gentle breeze provided a constant, soothing backdrop of sound. 

"I don't see anybody that needs our help."

"We just haven't found them yet," the Doctor insisted. “We’ve only just got here. Come on, why don't we take a look at that lake?"

She pointed to the body of water, which was glinting in the sun. It looked peaceful enough and Yaz wasn't entirely convinced they'd find anybody in need of help there, either, but the Doctor was full of energy today. In fact, Yaz was certain that the Doctor was trying to prove how fully she'd recovered after their last adventure, which had involved an evil monkey with shark teeth that had ripped open her leg like it was a snack. 

Yaz shivered despite the warm sunshine. 

"You alright?" Ryan asked, and Yaz was grateful he kept his voice low. The Doctor had pulled her to one side and asked her the same thing that very morning. Yaz had fibbed and assured her that she was fine. 

"Yeah. Just...I hope we don't actually find any trouble," she murmured, watching as the Doctor strode off at pace. Her leg didn't seem to be bothering her, at least; when she'd said she was a fast healer, she hadn't been lying. Still, Yaz had been shaken by the incident and hoped they wouldn't encounter anything similar for the foreseeable future. Part of her knew it would be too much to ask to avoid danger altogether. 

"You and me both," Ryan agreed. "Looks quiet enough."

"Mm," Yaz agreed, watching as the Doctor and Graham started walking down the hill, discussing the drawbacks of eating on the move. Their voices drifted in the wind, and Yaz caught a snippet of the Doctor's argument against eating and swimming at the same time. _ Of course she'd tried that._

She shook her head. 

"Looks can be deceiving though."

As if she'd heard them the Doctor turned back to check her other companions were following, her lips drawn back as she squinted into the sun. 

"Are you coming?"

"Yes!" Yaz and Ryan called back in unison. 

"It's like being on a school trip, I swear," Ryan muttered, and Yaz laughed lightly, the tension inside her chest easing. 

But the peace didn't last long. It was shattered by a cry for help and Yaz could have sworn the Doctor's ears pricked up. Yaz felt a flutter of anxiety and rapidly closed the distance to ensure the Doctor didn’t run off alone. 

“Did you hear that?”

Yaz nodded. The Doctor looked far too excited for her liking but it was hard to deny her enthusiasm. She felt a flutter of excitement herself, not dissimilar from when she got a call on duty.

The Doctor grinned at her. “Come on then, Yaz. Let’s get a shift on.”

She was off like a shot, quickly followed by Yaz and Ryan. Graham followed more slowly, complaining about parking so far away.

As they neared the lake, Yaz saw a small crowd gathered at the water’s edge. A woman was hysterical, pleading for the people near her to help, but they simply looked on in horror. Yaz stared at the lake, which looked idyllic and calm; it wasn’t immediately obvious that something was amiss, but the woman’s behaviour suggested otherwise. 

“Help me!” the woman cried, grabbing a hold of the man next to her by the lapels. 

“What’s happened?” the Doctor asked, barely out of breath as she broke through the edge of the crowd. 

“My daughter, she…”

The woman gestured desperately at the lake. 

“She’s in there?” Yaz asked. 

The woman nodded, her face white with fear. “I can’t swim.”

Yaz sensed movement next to her and turned to see the Doctor hand her her coat. 

“Hold onto this for me, would you, Yaz?”

Yaz grabbed hold out of reflex.

“You’re going in?”

“Course! I’ll be back in two ticks.”

“Something seems a bit off, Doctor,” Ryan said, scrutinising the crowd. “Why are they all watching and not helping?”

Yaz had to admit he had a point. There must have been around 30 people standing by, eyes fixed on the water. It was eerie. 

“Maybe they’re not strong swimmers,” she mused, untying her boots. “I am, though. First in the Gallifrey under-10s-”

“Swimathon, we know,” Yaz finished. 

The Doctor deflated a little, like the wind had been taken out of her sails. Yaz made a mental note not to do that again.

“I’m sure you’ll find her,” Yaz piped up, trying to smooth over her mistake. The Doctor flashed her a smile. 

“That I will.” Her confidence was reassuring and Yaz let herself relax a little, not wanting to delay her any longer. A girl’s life was at stake and every second counted. Besides, the Doctor could submerge herself for extended periods of time. She’d been dunked as a witch and lived to tell the tale, after all.

So she watched as the Doctor strode, sock-clad, into the lake. Yaz could see her shoulders hike up as she made contact with the water. It looked cold, despite the sunshine. 

Yaz shivered again. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right, especially since Ryan had pointed out how passive the crowd were being. She made her way to the girl’s mother, trying to make herself useful rather than fixate on the way the Doctor had submerged herself in the water.

“What happened?” Yaz asked. The woman barely looked at Yaz, too focused on the Doctor’s progress. 

“We were skipping stones and then...something...pulled her in.”

Yaz felt her stomach drop. 

“Hold up, hold up...something pulled her in?” Ryan echoed, looking to Graham in alarm.

“You didn’t think to mention that earlier?” Graham gaped.

“Oh, no,” Yaz groaned. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

The conversation was erupted by sudden movement from the water. 

The Doctor, Yaz noted in relief, had emerged holding onto someone who was coughing and spluttering for air. 

“Found her!” the Doctor called. “She’s okay! Well, just about.”

They weren’t too far out, but they were still too far away for Yaz’s liking. And the Doctor had no idea that there was something else in there with them. 

Yaz kicked off her trainers and handed the Doctor’s coat to Ryan.

“Yaz…”

“She needs help,” Yaz explained, tamping down her fear. Whatever had grabbed the girl hadn’t grabbed the Doctor. Yet. 

Yaz winced as she stepped into the water, which was as freezing cold as she’d guessed. It instantly seeped into her socks and jeans, making her legs feel both numb and heavy. The crowd had started to murmur at the development but Yaz resolutely ignored them. She could be brave, even if they couldn’t.

“Over here, Doctor!” she called, trying to guide the Doctor by voice as she swam backwards towards the shore, pulling the girl with her. She was swimming fast, and strong, but the fact that she was still in the water made Yaz incredibly anxious. 

Her anxiety wasn’t helped when, out of the corner of her eye, Yaz saw something ripple the surface. It was subtle enough that she wasn’t convinced she’d seen anything but when it happened again, moving towards the Doctor and her precious cargo, Yaz knew they’d have to pick up the pace.

“Doctor? You might want to hurry,” Graham called anxiously. He’d apparently seen the movement, too.

Yaz stayed rooted to the spot, too scared to move. But when the Doctor was close enough she held out her hands, grabbing the girl in her arms and holding her upright as she stood on the shore. Yaz could hear the woman behind her exclaim something in relief; the girl was alive, shaking and cold but alive. 

But then there were other shouts. They were distinctly less relieved and more clamorous. 

By that point the Doctor had got to her feet, shivering slightly as her wet clothes were exposed to the breeze. She looked at the crowd, her mouth falling open in confusion, and Yaz barely had time to shout out a warning when a giant tentacle emerged behind her, swooped down, and wrapped itself around the Doctor’s stomach. 

“What-”

The Doctor glanced down, alarmed, and then she was yanked backwards so violently that Yaz flinched. 

“Doctor!” she screamed, arms instinctively wrapping tightly around the girl in her arms. 

There was a ripple, but otherwise the lake was calm once more. The Doctor had been pulled under with such speed that Yaz wasn’t sure what she’d seen. If she’d blinked, she’d have missed it. Her heart started to pound.

“Yaz, what are we going to do?” Ryan called from the shore.

“How am I meant to know?” she replied, worried beyond belief. She loosened her grip on the girl in her arms.   
  
“Get onto land, okay? It’s not safe.”

Yaz didn’t need to repeat herself; the girl fled, kicking up water behind her as she ran to her mother. But Yaz was too busy looking for the Doctor to watch their emotional reunion; she heard snippets but her thoughts were elsewhere.

Seconds turned into minutes. 

“Come on, Doctor,” she muttered. Time was slipping through her fingers and the longer she waited, the more likely it was that she’d have to do something. Quite what she could do was yet to be determined. 

“She can hold her breath, can’t she?” Graham shouted, and Yaz turned, exasperated, to see that he looked as uneasy as she did. She nodded, resisting the urge to check her watch. Only a few minutes must have passed, but they felt like the longest minutes of her life. 

Yaz’s internal dilemma was resolved when the tentacle finally re-emerged, bearing the Doctor with it. She hung limply, not fighting back, and Yaz felt a lump in her throat as she could do nothing but watch it slam back into the water, taking the Doctor with it. 

That had to hurt. 

“I think she might need a hand,” Graham started speaking again as Yaz took a step in, the chill now reaching up to her thighs. But she was completely paralysed by an inability to do anything to help. 

Moments later the Doctor re-emerged, flung into the sky as the tentacle retreated back into the depths. Apparently, whatever had grabbed her had got bored. 

Yaz felt her jaw drop as she watched the Doctor fly through the air, heading straight for the crowd, which scattered as she landed solidly on the ground and skidded in the mud. 

She didn’t move. 

“Doctor?”

Yaz willed her numb legs into action, following Ryan and Graham as they ran towards the Doctor, who was surrounded once more by the crowd. The girl who’d been snatched was crying and Yaz realised why when she finally saw the Doctor’s face. It looked completely lifeless. Her hair clung to her cheek, which was as pale as Yaz had ever seen it. She looked so pale that Yaz could see dark circles underneath her closed eyes, and her parted lips were almost blue. 

“Is she-”

“She’s not breathing,” Graham said, two fingers pressed just under her jaw. 

Suddenly, the crowd surrounding them felt far too claustrophobic. 

“Make some space!” Yaz yelled, gesturing wildly with her arms. Ryan helped shepherd the crowd back as Yaz returned to the Doctor’s side. She didn’t want anybody to see this if she could help it. 

“Do you know what to do?” Graham asked, kneeling in the mud with his hands hovering over the Doctor’s hearts. Yaz joined him, her cold knees barely registering the slippery surface as she tilted the Doctor’s head back.

“Yeah,” she murmured, thinking of her first aid training. “I’m sure it’ll work on her.”

Graham nodded briefly, convinced. Yaz realised her hands were shaking as she held the Doctor’s jaw, her thumb coming to rest on her chin as Graham started compressions.

It was very different doing this on a real person, Yaz realised, as she watched Graham work. For a start, it was much more brutal, especially when the person who wasn’t breathing was your best friend. 

_ More than that. _

It wouldn’t do to get emotional, Yaz thought, as she brought her lips down to the Doctor’s and sealed them together. She was simply breathing for the Doctor until she could breathe for herself. Another breath, and Yaz could see her chest rise, then fall. It didn’t rise again. 

“Alright, Doc. Round two.”

Yaz bit her lip as she watched, counting, waiting. Apart from Graham’s exertions, there was no sound. It was eerily quiet without the Doctor chattering away. 

Two more breaths. Only two breaths, but those two breaths were utterly exhausting, emotionally and physically. They were so crucial that Yaz felt like she was emptying her own lungs entirely, donating all of her air to the Doctor. And yet they weren’t enough. The Doctor was still not breathing for herself, despite Yaz’s best efforts.

“Is she okay?” Ryan called back, trying to keep the crowd away. 

_ No, she’s not._

Yaz bent over again, willing the Doctor to breathe. Graham had started to go red in the face but Yaz didn’t even consider suggesting they swap. She had to be the one to do this, nobody else. It didn’t feel right.

It was only mid-way through the next set of compressions that Yaz noticed a muted response. The Doctor’s eyelids fluttered and her chest heaved, and then she was abruptly coughing up an alarming amount of water all over Yaz’s shirt. 

“Argh!” the Doctor gargled, struggling to clear the water from her airways.

The Doctor’s eyes were open, now, wild with panic as a hand clutched her chest. She coughed harshly and Yaz helped her move onto one side to bring up the rest of the water she’d inhaled. 

“One,” she wheezed, thumping at her chest weakly. 

“What? Doctor, be careful,” Yaz chided, alarmed at the Doctor’s behaviour. Her chest had been pushed and pressed violently with the compressions; had they broken something?

“One,” the Doctor repeated, the single word an effort. 

Having successfully shooed away the crowd, Ryan re-joined them. 

“One what, Doctor?” he asked, crouching next to her. 

“Heart,” she winced, continuing to thump ineffectively at her ribcage. “Hit me.”

Ryan cast a wary glance at Yaz. 

“I’m not hurting her,” she fired back, already horrified that the Doctor had drowned. Technically, she had died. The idea that she wasn’t entirely back to normal didn’t bear thinking about, nor did hitting her. 

“Not hurting,” the Doctor groaned, flopping back onto the ground as she clutched at her chest in agony. 

“She’s right,” Graham winced. “She needs two hearts, doesn’t she? Having only half a heart isn’t going to cut it.” 

Yaz felt hugely out of her depth. The fact that their resuscitation had only been half successful paled in comparison to the fact that the Doctor’s physiology was entirely different from their own. This was a shocking reminder.

“Alright, alright. I’ll do it,” Ryan said, wavering as he tried to figure out where to hit his friend. 

“Anywhere,” the Doctor groused, eyes screwed shut in pain. “Just hurry.”

Without further delay, Ryan brought a closed fist down, hard, on the Doctor’s chest. Her legs shot out, kicking Graham. 

“Sorry! I’m sorry, Doctor,” Ryan instantly started to apologise. To his immense surprise, the Doctor started laughing. 

“Much better,” she moaned, eyes sliding shut briefly. “One heart is never enough. Thank you, Ryan. Gold star.”

Yaz felt any remaining energy leave her entirely and she slumped onto the ground, careless of the mud. Her backside landed in the puddle of water the Doctor had coughed up but she barely noticed.

“Ten points to you, Graham,” the Doctor continued. “And for you, Yaz, all the custard creams in the universe.”

The Doctor’s eyes opened and fixed on Yaz. They were bloodshot but something of their sparkle had returned. Yaz breathed a sigh of relief. _ She was back._

“Loving your work, fam,” the Doctor said as she lifted both arms and gave them two thumbs up. They trembled and she quickly let them fall back into the mud. 

“Not to be a broken record, Doc, but that picnic really wasn’t such a bad idea after all, was it?” Graham complained, pushing himself to his feet. Ryan held out a hand for Yaz and she took it, letting him lift her up. Between them, they carefully aided the Doctor to her feet, despite her protestations that she could stand unaided. Yaz felt her wobble slightly but didn’t comment.

“You know, I could murder a sandwich right about now. All that swimming was hard work.”

Dizzy with relief that their Doctor had returned, Yaz couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. 

“You are the craziest person I’ve ever met. You know that?”

The Doctor’s face was close to her own when she turned to reply. 

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s a stressful thing,” Yaz admitted, wrapping the Doctor’s arm around her shoulder. 

“I always bounce back,” the Doctor retorted, letting her weight fall onto Yaz a little. Ryan gave them some space, hovering just in case Yaz needed a hand. 

“Not always,” Graham raised an eyebrow. “You were dead for a few minutes there, you know.”

“A technicality.” The Doctor brushed it off but Yaz was having none of it. She opened her mouth to chip in when a violent shiver wracked the Doctor’s frame, and thought better of it. Sometimes, when the Doctor was being stubborn, you had to pick your battles.

“What even was that thing?” Ryan asked, jerking a thumb back towards the lake. 

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Graham muttered, brushing the mud from the knee of his trousers as they followed the crowd back to the village. “All I know is that I’m not walking back up that bloody hill.”

“Too right,” Ryan agreed, winking at Yaz. “Shall we get a lift?”

Having rescued one of the villagers, the local townsfolk were only too happy to convey the Doctor and her companions back to the TARDIS in a horse and cart. Yaz didn’t let go of the Doctor for the duration of the journey back.

In fact, it was only when they were halfway towards Yaz’s room that she realised she’d not let go once. Even when the Doctor had opened the TARDIS doors, Yaz had laid a supporting hand on her arm, resuming her position by the Doctor’s side once they were indoors. To her credit, the Doctor did not protest; if anything, she seemed to welcome the support silently. 

“Where are we going?” Yaz asked, slowing her pace. 

“You need to get warm, Yaz.”

“That can wait. You’re shivering so much that I can hear your teeth chattering, Doctor. Do you have a bath?”

The Doctor clamped her jaw shut, but Yaz could see the spasm in the muscle of her cheek. 

“Don’t try and hide it from me. Please?” Yaz said, her voice softening. 

The Doctor sighed. 

“Okay. Turn right here.”

They were only a few doors from Yaz’s room when the Doctor stopped abruptly. Yaz was about to ask what was going on when the Doctor reached out and pushed a panel in the wall and a door materialised. 

She turned the knob. 

“Welcome to my room,” the Doctor explained, and Yaz felt her eyes grow wide as she saw the Doctor’s bedroom for the very first time. It was more muted than she expected; the walls were bare, and the bed, although large, looked barely used. The sheets were a pale blue, similar to the colour of the Doctor’s coat. All this time, she’d been sleeping right down the hall from the woman who haunted her waking thoughts and her dreams. Yaz wondered if the proximity of their rooms was deliberate.

When she felt the Doctor tremble again, it spurred her into action. 

“Right, the bath. Where is it?”

The Doctor took tentative steps towards another room, stumbling only slightly. 

“You’re joking me,” Yaz gasped when she saw the size of the Doctor’s bath. It was more like a small swimming pool. 

“I’ve been meaning to adjust it,” the Doctor mumbled sheepishly. “But I do like a good bath. Great for thinking in.”

“Mm. And getting warm,” Yaz agreed, depositing the Doctor on the edge of it. “I’m going to start this now and maybe, in half an hour, it’ll be ready.”

There was a pause as they both considered the next steps. 

“Did you…”

Yaz gestured to the Doctor’s soaking clothes. 

The Doctor shook her head quietly, a soft smile on her face. 

“You’ve done enough, Yaz. I can take care of this part.”

A flicker of disappointment came and went, and Yaz nodded. 

“Okay. I’m just going to get changed. Did you need anything else?”

The Doctor pursed her lips, looking bedraggled and so small that Yaz wanted nothing more than to gather her up in a hug. 

“Maybe you could keep me company? Baths are nice and all, but they can be boring.”

Yaz tried to mute the grin that threatened to give the game away. 

“Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

* * *

When Yaz returned after the world’s briefest shower and a quick change of clothes, she knocked hesitantly on the bathroom door. 

“Come in, Yaz. No need to knock.”

But Yaz didn’t want any surprises. She had no idea what lay beyond the door but it certainly wasn’t what she expected: the Doctor surrounded by copious bubbles, sculpting a beard out of them. 

“You think you have enough bubble bath?” Yaz exclaimed, secretly delighted to see some colour back in the Doctor’s cheeks.

“Not quite peak bubble, but it’ll do. I couldn’t help myself, that lake water smelled a bit pongy,” the Doctor grimaced. “What do you think? Thought I’d see if it felt the same. I don’t miss having facial hair.”

Yep, the Doctor was well and truly restored. 

“I can only imagine,” Yaz sighed, perching on the edge of the bath. The sheer volume of bubbles meant there was no risk of seeing what lay underneath the water, and Yaz relaxed. 

“Are you any warmer?”

The Doctor’s face was pink as she ran a hand over her bubble beard, removing it. “Much better. Are you?”

Yaz shrugged. She’d been so eager to return to the Doctor that her shower had been too brief to warm her up properly. 

“Yaz…” the Doctor started, looking distinctly unimpressed. 

“I’m fine,” Yaz said, ending the discussion. “I wasn’t the one dragged underwater by a giant tentacle monster for so long that I drowned, and then thrown across a lake.”

The Doctor’s shoulders slumped. 

“Are your ribs alright?” Yaz asked, remembering how many compressions Graham had done. “CPR can be a bit...vicious.”

The Doctor stretched experimentally and gasped, her mouth twisting in displeasure. 

“Oh. Yes. I forgot about that bit.”

Yaz watched as the Doctor struggled to recall what had happened. It wasn’t surprising, really; Yaz was certain she would fail to remember any of it if it had happened to her. But when the Doctor absently lifted a hand to her mouth, Yaz felt a rush of blood warm her face. 

“You- I remember something. Your face, it was so close to mine.”

She frowned as she struggled to put things together. Yaz decided that honesty would be the best policy.

“Mouth to mouth. I had to breathe for you.” 

“Oh. Really? I don’t remember it.”

Yaz sighed. “That might be for the best.”

“The kiss of life?” the Doctor blurted. 

Yaz nodded. 

“You kissed me back to life?”

After a beat, Yaz nodded again, uncertain where this train of thought was going. “I just did what needed to be done.” 

The Doctor shook her head. “There’s more to it than that. I can see it in your face, Yaz.”

Belatedly, Yaz realised her gaze had drifted to where the Doctor’s finger rested against her mouth. 

“Kiss me again.”

Yaz had been looking at the Doctor’s mouth when the words were spoken but she couldn’t believe her ears. 

“What?” she laughed, shifting on the edge of the bath. She felt like a rabbit in the headlights, unsure whether she should deny everything or be honest and let the chips fall where they may. 

“Kiss me again. I want to know what it feels like. I want to know what it’s like to kiss Yasmin Khan. Properly.”

The request was made so simply, so innocently, that Yaz was taken aback. But who was she to argue? She had wondered the same thing so often that she’d lost count of how often she’d considered it. It was one of the strangest days she’d had in a long time; fulfilling the Doctor’s request was one of the more straightforward things she could do, something she could draw comfort from by providing. That, and the Doctor’s honesty made her brave. 

Yaz shifted closer, ignoring the water that had started to soak into her jeans for the second time that day. The Doctor was waiting impatiently for her and Yaz knew she would chicken out if she thought too much about what she was about to do.

This time, when their lips met, the Doctor’s mouth felt warm and alive beneath her own. Yaz could feel bubbles against her shirt, hear the noise they made as the foam pressed into the dry material as she leaned over and kissed the Doctor soundly. It lasted only a few glorious seconds. 

Yaz pulled away, anxiously taking in the Doctor’s expression. Her eyes were wide and she was looking at Yaz like she was the most marvellous thing she’d ever seen. Yaz fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, slightly uncomfortable with the silent scrutiny. 

“Y’know, normally people close their eyes when they kiss,” she murmured, feeling the silence stretch on for just a moment too long. 

“I liked it,” the Doctor announced, her eyes crinkling as a smile spread across her face. “I really, really liked it.”

Yaz let out a shaky breath. “Did you want to-”

“Yes,” the Doctor cut in, arms reaching for her companion to pull her close once more. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can find me on twitter @_mag_lex
> 
> All my fics can now be found at maglexfic dot wordpress dot com. I'll be posting all new works there going forward and not on ao3 so I'd recommend checking it out and subscribing!


	3. Stomach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I pretty much hate everything I'm writing at the moment. But I needed to post before Whumptober finishes so...I hope it isn't too shit 😂

One of Yaz's new favourite things was to hug the Doctor from behind and wrap her arms around her. Although she was shorter than the Doctor, she could just about tuck her head over her shoulder. Feeling the warmth of the Doctor’s body within her arms was equally nice, but when Yaz let her hands come to rest on her stomach, she took simple pleasure in the feel of flat, solid muscle under her palms, and how it moved as the Doctor breathed. Given that the Doctor had very recently stopped breathing after the incident in the lake, the motion was especially reassuring. It was the most intimate they had been but the simple act of holding her felt like the best thing in the world.

Yaz sighed as she lay on her bed that evening, reminiscing about how the Doctor felt. Only that morning had they watched a distant supernova wrapped up in each other’s arms and it had been one of the most magical experiences of Yaz’s life. 

Her musings were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Yaz frowned and checked the time. 8pm. Unusual for someone to come calling at this time of day, unless…

No, surely not. The Doctor had left only a few hours ago - although they felt like long, long hours - and was not due to return for another day.

“Yasmin!”

Her dad’s voice carried down the hall well enough but it was his tone that got her jumping off the bed. He sounded significantly more stressed than usual. In fact, she’d never heard him sound so worried.

“What is it?” she called out as she opened her bedroom door, craning her neck around the doorjamb to see who was at the front door. 

Her dad moved aside and Yaz felt the strength leave every muscle in her body when she saw who was there. 

“Hiya, Yaz,” the Doctor waved, leaning heavily against the doorframe. 

_ How was this possible? _She’d only been gone a few hours but it looked like she’d been gone for weeks. 

“What happened?” Yaz gasped, walking numbly down the corridor. The closer she got, the more wounds she could see, and she didn’t like the way the Doctor was wobbling on her feet. Her coat was gone, and the white sleeves of her shirt were stained and torn.

“What’s all this fuss about?” Najia emerged from the living room, knitting in hand. She promptly dropped it when she saw who was at the door. 

“Sorry, Yaz’s mum,” the Doctor grimaced, pushing herself upright. “I didn’t mean to make a mess.”

Yaz realised with slowly dawning horror that the Doctor was dripping blood onto the doormat.

“Oh my god.”

“I’m calling an ambulance,” Hakim said definitively, reaching for the phone in the hallway. 

“No!” Yaz and the Doctor called in unison. The Doctor gasped in pain, arm wrapped around her stomach as she wavered by the door. 

Yaz’s parents looked at her strangely. 

“She...they won’t….” she stammered, scrambling to think of an excuse other than that the Doctor was an alien and therefore likely to cause panic at a hospital once they detected she had not one, but two, hearts.

“No initials,” the Doctor ground out, as if that explained everything. But she looked to Najia with a plea in her eyes and Yaz realised at that moment that her mum was just as susceptible to the Doctor’s charms as she was.

“She doesn’t like hospitals,” Yaz explained. “But I can look after her.” 

She took a cautious step towards the Doctor, wanting nothing more than to hold her and reassure her that everything would be alright. But she could see bruises around her throat, which stood in stark contrast to her pale skin. Yaz wasn’t sure the Doctor would appreciate being touched; when she moved her hand away from her stomach, Yaz noticed that her shirts were soaked through with blood. 

Naija sighed. 

“_We _ can look after her. Come in, Doctor, and lie down before you fall down.”

The Doctor bowed her head in gratitude but the motion was ill-advised and she pitched forward. Hakim shouted in alarm, throwing out an arm to stop her collapsing to the floor completely and giving Yaz enough time to close the distance between them. She carefully wrapped an arm around the Doctor’s side and together they stumbled down the hall to her bedroom. 

A voice in the back of her mind thought Najia might protest and insist the Doctor recover on the sofa but thankfully it was wrong. Instead, she heard her mum ask her dad to pop to the shops for some bandages and other supplies. 

“Sorry, Yaz,” the Doctor murmured. “I didn’t mean to show up early.” Her words were slurred, as if she was drunk.

“You don’t need to say sorry, Doctor. What happened to you?”

The Doctor winced as Yaz helped her sit on the edge of her bed, and Yaz put on the main light to take stock of the rest of her injuries. A nasty looking head wound was bleeding sluggishly and every inch of skin that Yaz could see was either bruised or covered in blood or dirt. The Doctor’s hair was matted and dirty, and in the space of a few hours it looked like she’d actually lost weight. 

Yaz crouched by the Doctor’s knees, starting to undo the laces of her boots while her eyes fixed on the most obvious wound of all - the one that was clearly lying in wait under the Doctor’s shirts. 

“I couldn't let them trace me back to you, Yaz.” 

“Who? Trace you?”

The Doctor pressed a hand firmly against her side, making a noise of distress. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Can I?”

Yaz waited for the Doctor’s nod before she gently moved her hand to one side, wincing as she started to lift the sodden material away from the Doctor’s stomach. With the way she was sitting, it was hard to see the extent of the damage, but Yaz could clearly see a gaping wound where there should have been smooth skin. 

“Had to cut it out.” The Doctor moaned in pain, her face white. 

Yaz felt sick. 

“Cut what out?”

“Tracker.”

With that, the Doctor slumped, her hands going limp by her sides. 

“Doctor?” Yaz asked, panicked. She let the shirt fall back, resolving to deal with the problem later. The very idea that the Doctor had cut something out of herself was enough to deal with in and of itself. She wrapped her hands around the Doctor’s shoulders, guiding her to lie flat. She was a dead weight, barely conscious, and Yaz struggled not to fall with her. 

“Doctor? Can you hear me?”

Yaz tried to keep her voice strong, reassuring, but it was incredibly difficult. 

“Come on, then, Doctor. Tell us what happened and we can help you.” Yaz felt sheer relief flood through her when her mum re-appeared. She needed her help more than anything. 

“They gave me something,” the Doctor murmured, and Yaz could see that her pupils were completely blown. 

“Gave you-”

“Drugs?” Yaz asked, cutting across her mum’s question. “They drugged you?”

She felt her hands clench by her sides. Whoever ‘they’ were, Yaz felt a burning desire to kill them. The rage was scary but she held onto it, because it meant she felt equipped to deal with the situation that had just presented itself.

“Mm,” the Doctor agreed, lifting an arm and letting it flop back to the bed. Yaz tugged up the sleeve and realised there were track marks. Her heart sank.

“They fucking drugged you," Yaz spat, anger flaring to life once more.

“Language, Yasmin,” her mum chided, but Yaz could tell her heart wasn’t in it. She looked as disgusted as Yaz felt. 

“Too strong,” the Doctor mumbled, a lazy smile making its way onto her face. It should have been reassuring but in context it was downright terrifying.

“I think she’s still drugged now,” Najia murmured, and Yaz nodded. 

Najia then did something that took Yaz by surprise. She leant over and held the Doctor’s face in her hands, encouraging her to open her eyes. Yaz had never seen her mum look so worried. 

“Doctor, listen to me, please. How long will it take to get it out of your system?” 

“Days.”

“There must be another way,” Yaz replied, horrified at the thought.

“Always is,” the Doctor replied, her eyes drifting shut again. 

“Doctor? What’s the other way?” Najia prompted, her thumb rubbing the Doctor’s cheek to get her attention. 

“Burn it off. Not gonna be pretty.” 

The dopey smile that was on the Doctor’s face turned into a grimace as the wound in her side made itself known and Najia let go, giving her space to ride it out. 

“Do you know what she means?” she asked, turning to Yaz. 

“I have no idea,” Yaz admitted. “But she’s strong. She can fight it.”

With that, she reached out for the Doctor’s hand, which had twisted itself in the sheets. 

“Doctor? You can do this. We’re here, and you’re safe. Whatever you need to do, please do it,” she pleaded.

“Anything for you, Yaz,” the Doctor gasped. She was writhing in pain, her eyes barely open, but after a moment she calmed and her eyes closed. The change was so sudden that Yaz had to double check she was still breathing. But the Doctor’s chest still moved slowly, her breathing even.

“Is she….” Najia didn’t want to finish the question and Yaz didn’t blame her. 

“I think she’s asleep,” Yaz murmured, tentatively resting her hand on the Doctor’s forehead. It was burning hot. 

“She’s warm. Maybe she literally did mean she’d burn it off,” she continued, looking to her mum for reassurance. Najia seemed equally confused. 

“Either way, she’s resting, now. I think we should clean her up,” Najia suggested as the front door shut. 

“Najia?” Hakim’s voice carried down the hall.

“Wait here a second, love.”

Finally left alone with the Doctor, Yaz was at something of a loss. It was too silent without the Doctor’s voice, and Yaz hated to see her so hurt. She perched on the end of the bed, scared to touch her in case it made things worse. Down the hallway she could hear her parents having a hushed conversation and belatedly wondered how on earth she was going to explain all of this to them. 

Yaz was dwelling on that point when her mum returned bearing bandages and antiseptic. She leapt to her feet, full of nervous energy about what was to come. 

Najia seemed to sense her apprehension and deposited the bandages at the foot of the bed, by the Doctor’s feet. 

“Yasmin, could you get some towels, please? And some warm water?”

Najia’s brisk tone kept Yaz focused and she used the reprieve to collect herself. While the kitchen taps ran, Yaz held out a hand and was unsurprised to see how it trembled. Seeing the Doctor hurt was always shocking but ever since they’d become closer, Yaz was terrified of losing her. It was small consolation that the Doctor had chosen to turn up at her door. 

When she returned, the Doctor’s shirts had been rolled up and Yaz could clearly see the scale of the problem. Najia looked up as Yaz entered the room, her expression grim. 

“It looks like she’s been stabbed.”

Yaz felt a phantom pain in her own side and she abruptly put the bowl of water down before she dropped it. 

“She said she cut something out. A tracker.”

Najia’s expression became even more pinched. 

“Whatever it was must have been pretty deep,” she muttered. “Pass me that water, Yasmin.”

She reached out and Yaz was horrified to see that her hands were already stained with the Doctor’s blood. Numbly, she passed the bowl to Najia, gaze fixed on the jagged, gaping wound in the Doctor’s stomach. It looked wrong. As Najia set to work cleaning it, Yaz’s attention was immediately drawn by the Doctor’s voice. 

“Yaz?”

But when she looked to the Doctor’s face, her eyes were still closed as if she was asleep; her head was tossing and turning as if she was in the grip of a nightmare. 

“Doctor?”

"I can't,” the Doctor moaned. “Don’t.”

“Doctor, you’re safe. You’re with me. Yaz. And my mum. She’s helping, too.”

The Doctor turned her head again, writhing. 

“I won’t. Don’t make me.”

"Try and keep her still," Najia urged, and Yaz nodded, determined to do what she could to help. 

Yaz reached for a clean towel and used it to wipe the sweat from the Doctor’s brow. She was pale and clammy, and Yaz could feel the heat emanating from her even a foot away. 

“I’m here, Doctor,” Yaz repeated. “I’m not leaving you. You’re safe, I promise. We’ll make sure of it.”

She reached for the Doctor’s hand, holding it in her own. 

“You feel that? That’s me. Hold on to me, Doctor, just for a little longer.”

“Yaz?”

The Doctor’s eyes were open, and she was struggling to focus. 

“Yeah,” Yaz breathed, relieved. “I’m here.”

“Really?”

Yaz abandoned the towel and replaced it with her hand, trying to calm the Doctor as she stroked her forehead. 

“Really. I don’t know what they did to you, Doctor, but I promise that you’re safe now.”

The Doctor shook her head, trying to pull away from Yaz’s touch. 

“Said that before.”

Yaz sighed. Trying to convince the Doctor of something could be difficult normally; add in a pinch of delirium and it was borderline impossible.

Frustrated, Yaz did the only thing she knew that would reassure her. She leant over and kissed her on the cheek. The contact was brief, but she was only too aware that her own mum was in the same room.

“Do you believe me now?” she whispered. Her face was still close to the Doctor’s own, so close that she could feel the Doctor’s rasping breath on her cheek. 

“I-”

The Doctor licked her lips, seemingly lost for words. Yaz couldn’t tell if it was a result of the kiss or the situation, or both. 

“Yeah. I do.”

“Stay with me, okay?” Yaz urged, tracing the imprint of her lips with her thumb. 

Najia cleared her throat, and Yaz jerked her head back. 

“Can you hold this in place?” She was holding a piece of gauze over the injury.

Yaz cast a glance back at the Doctor, who had gone quiet. Her eyes were closed once more. 

“Yeah,” she agreed, shifting so that she could help dress the wound. Underneath her fingertips, the skin of the Doctor’s stomach felt warm. 

“It might be infected,” Najia muttered, as if she had read Yaz’s mind. Yaz wondered if her mum was going to say anything about what had just passed between her and the Doctor, but unusually, she remained quiet as she taped the gauze down.

“Right,” she sighed, looking Yaz dead in the eye. “I’m not letting her sleep in these clothes. They’re filthy."

Mutely, Yaz nodded in agreement. 

Socks: easy. Trousers: slightly tricky, especially since the Doctor’s braces were still on. 

Najia reached behind her and returned bearing scissors, which gleamed in the low light cast by the bedside table. As much as it pained Yaz to cut the Doctor’s clothes, it certainly would be the easiest way to remove them.

But as Najia started to cut into the Doctor’s shirts, Yaz froze. She’d caught glimpses of the Doctor when she’d been in the bath but this was like speeding from zero to sixty miles per hour in the space of three seconds. Seeing her like this didn’t feel right, and it made Yaz nauseous.

Without even looking up, Najia spoke. 

“Why don’t you make some tea? I could do with a cup, and I think you could too, love.”

The scissors snicked and Yaz got to her feet, trying to ignore the skin that was gradually being exposed behind her. 

“Be right back,” she murmured, trying to estimate how long her mum would need. Surely long enough to boil the kettle a few times over. She made her way slowly down the hall, jumping in fright when the front door opened once more and Sonya arrived home. 

“Alright? Someone's jumpy."

Yaz pasted a smile on her face as she greeted her sister. Apparently, it didn’t work too well; that, or her sister could read her like a book.

“What happened to you? Bad shift?”

“Something like that,” Yaz admitted, twisting the ring on her finger. “Did you want some tea? I’m going to make some.”

“Yeah, I could-” 

Sonya stopped speaking as she kicked off her shoes. 

“Is that blood?” she asked, staring at the carpet beneath her feet. 

Yaz realised that there were quite obvious bloodstains on the hallway carpet. Lots of them.

“Who’s bleeding? Did something happen?”

For Sonya to be so concerned triggered something inside Yaz and she crumpled. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” she admitted. “The Doctor is here.”

Sonya frowned. 

“She’s alright, though, right? This is the same Doctor you’re always talking about? The literal puppy.”

“No, she’s not alright,” Yaz bit out, resuming her path to the kitchen. 

Tea. She could make tea. 

Sonya followed her. 

“You can’t just leave it like that. What happened?”

Yaz didn’t answer, focusing her attention on rummaging in the cupboards. Her patience wore thin as she failed to find any teabags whatsoever. 

“Where’s the tea?” she asked, exasperated. “Someone’s moved it.”

Sonya brushed past her and found some instantly. 

“Yeah, a few months ago dad decided to keep it in here. Closer to the kettle, remember?”

Sonya regarded her sister carefully. “Sit down. I’ll make them.”

Yaz slumped onto a kitchen chair, restless. Only a few doors away, the Doctor lay wounded, reliant on her help to keep her alive.

“So? What happened?” Sonya asked as she dropped teabags into the mugs.

Yaz chewed the inside of her cheek as the kettle started to boil. Normally the sound would have been comforting but she was on edge, and Sonya’s questions weren’t helping. 

“She just turned up. I don’t know where she’d been,” Yaz sighed. “But she was drugged. And she had to cut something out of herself, that’s why...there’s all that blood,” she concluded.

"Drugged?” Sonya was appalled. “Where is she now?”

“My room. Mum’s with her.”

Sonya bit back her first response - Yaz could see it - and instead started to make the tea. Without another word, she handed Yaz a mug, watching as she blew on the steam. 

“Will she be alright?”

After such a long pause, the sound of Sonya’s voice jolted Yaz from her thoughts. She shrugged. 

“I hope so.” Yaz didn’t even want to consider the alternative. 

“Come on, let’s go see her,” Sonya suggested. “We can take them some tea.”

Knowing the Doctor wouldn’t be drinking tea for the foreseeable future, Yaz simply nodded, getting to her feet on legs that had lost their strength. The Doctor loved drinking tea. 

Sonya knocked on the door, and Yaz held her breath as she opened it. She wasn’t sure she was quite ready for the sight that was about to greet her.

“Brought you some tea, mum,” Sonya explained, but Yaz could see that she was shocked by the Doctor’s appearance. Najia had managed to remove her filthy clothes and wrap her in a sheet, but she looked small, and was clearly not out of danger yet. 

Yaz hovered by the door, worried that crossing the threshold would make it real. After handing Najia her mug of tea, Sonya returned to Yaz's side, looping an arm around Yaz’s waist in a gesture she hadn’t done for many, many years. Yaz took simple comfort from it, leaning into the sisterly embrace. 

They watched as Najia ignored her tea in favour of wetting a towel and placing it on the Doctor’s forehead. She hummed as she did so, and Sonya’s grip around Yaz’s waist tightened.

“She used to do that for us when we were unwell. Do you remember?” she murmured. Yaz nodded. Najia was always a comforting presence when she’d been ill. 

The peace was broken by the Doctor, who started to call out for Yaz once more. Sonya and Najia both turned to look at her. 

“Go on. And call me if you need me.”

Yaz nodded gratefully at her sister, abandoning her tea on the bedside table as she resumed her previous position on the edge of the bed. 

Giving the Doctor’s hand a careful squeeze seemed to reassure the Doctor of her presence and she settled, her cheeks rosy with fever. 

“What on earth happened to her?” Najia asked. The question was almost rhetorical but Yaz knew better. 

“I have no idea,” she admitted. 

“Why did she come here, Yasmin?”

_ Ah. There it is_. 

“I don't know,” Yaz sighed, keeping her attention focused on the Doctor’s face for signs of distress. Now was not the best time to get into this, she reasoned. Besides, she had no idea what she’d even call her relationship with the Doctor. 

There was a beat while Najia decided how hard to push. 

“She seems to know you’ll keep her safe, anyway. That means something.”

“She always keeps me safe,” Yaz murmured. Najia sighed.

“I’m glad you two are looking after one another. Relationships are hard work.”

Yaz didn’t have time to formulate a denial because the Doctor spoke her name again, the sound feeble. It hurt Yaz's heart. She felt the bed shift as her mum moved, then the gentle pressure of a hand on her shoulder. 

“Keep holding her hand, sweetheart. Let her know you’re here.”

Yaz did as she was told, eyes fixed on the Doctor’s face. 

“Yaz?” the Doctor called again as she shifted restlessly.

“That’s my cue,” Najia said, and Yaz was sure she heard a smile in her voice. Which, given the circumstances, was a little strange. She turned to final look up at her mum. Najia’s expression was unreadable but she was, indeed, smiling. 

“Thanks, mum,” Yaz mumbled, caught off guard by the look on her face. 

“I know how much she means to you, love.” Najia explained as she squeezed Yaz's shoulder and turned to leave. 

“Thanks Yaz’s mum,” the Doctor murmured, the words barely distinguishable. 

Yaz almost laughed in surprise; Najia did. 

“I think after all of this you really should call me Najia, Doctor. And we’ll talk later, Yasmin.”

With that, she was gone. But when Yaz turned back to look at the Doctor, she seemed dead to the world.

“Are you awake?” Yaz whispered. After a long moment, the Doctor properly opened her eyes and focused on Yaz. She seemed more lucid, if incredibly weak.

“Yaz,” she murmured. “I knew you were here.” 

“I always will be,” Yaz replied, bringing the Doctor’s hand to her mouth and kissing the back of it. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“This is an interesting evening,” the Doctor sighed, frowning as she stretched her legs experimentally. 

“Careful,” Yaz warned. “You’ve got a pretty nasty hole in your stomach.”

“Oh. Yes.” The Doctor winced. “I couldn’t heal while that drug was still working. Should be alright soon.”

Yaz breathed a sigh of relief. 

"You burned it off?"

"Yes. Boosted my metabolism for a bit. Hard work, that."

"You gave me the fright of my life, turning up like that.”

The Doctor's expression softened and Yaz could practically see the apology before it left her lips.

“I’m sorry, Yaz.”

“That’s not what I meant, Doctor, just...I wish I’d been there. To help you.”

She raised a hand to gently trace the bruises around the Doctor’s neck. 

“They really hurt you.”

The Doctor nodded briefly, her only sign of agreement. 

“I’d never let you get hurt, Yaz,” she said instead. “And I wouldn’t have come here if I’d thought they could follow me.”

“I know. It’s why you went all hardcore and cut yourself open, remember?”

Yaz tried to be humorous but the idea was genuinely upsetting and she felt her eyes start to well up with tears. 

“Hey,” the Doctor said, alarmed. She raised a shaking hand to cup Yaz’s cheek. “I’ll always be alright, Yaz. And I know I’ll always have you to keep me safe.”

Yaz let her head drop to her chest as hot tears hit the sheet. 

“Come here,” the Doctor murmured, grimacing as she turned onto her good side. She patted the space beside her. 

“No, you need to rest, Doctor.”

“I think you could do with some rest yourself, Yaz.”

They stared at each other until Yaz realised she was right. She was exhausted. 

“Only for five minutes, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, but as soon as Yaz lay next to her she reached for her hand and placed it on her side, above the wound. 

“See? I’m alright. This will be gone by the morning.”

Yaz was far too distracted by the feel of solid warmth under her palm to reply. The Doctor frowned. 

“In fact…”

She moved Yaz’s hand and let the sheet slip away, completely oblivious to the fact that she had bared herself to Yaz in the process. 

It took Yaz a moment to realise she was tugging at the dressing, grumbling at the tape holding it in place. 

“No, no. Leave it there. For me?”

The Doctor’s gaze snapped back to Yaz. 

“I wanted to show you that it’s probably half healed by now. I'm good at that.”

“I’ll just have to take your word for it,” Yaz murmured, trying very hard not to let her eyes wander. “But you’ll get cold like this,” she continued, waiting for the Doctor to cotton on. 

“Oh.”

Her cheeks were still pink from the fever but Yaz was certain they went even pinker when she realised that her clothes had gone. 

As if in apology, Yaz pulled the sheet back over her naked body, stopping to press a gentle kiss over the tender skin of her stomach. 

“There. If all else fails, a kiss will always make it better.”

Yaz watched, amused, as the Doctor tried to make sense of the statement. 

“It’s a saying, before you say anything.”

“You’re full of those, Yaz,” the Doctor murmured, her eyelids starting to droop. 

“And here’s another. Sweet dreams, Doctor, and sleep tight.”

The Doctor was fast asleep before she’d even finished the sentence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can find me on twitter @_mag_lex
> 
> All my fics can now be found at maglexfic dot wordpress dot com. I'll be posting all new works there going forward and not on ao3 so I'd recommend checking it out and subscribing!


	4. Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only just uploaded a Tsuranga fic but in my defence I did start writing this back in October...it just took me this long to finish it :’) You’ll understand why I’m saying this shortly!

The first time the Doctor properly held her hand, Yaz couldn’t stop smiling. They were walking down a street in Sheffield, on the lookout for Portuguese pastries, when slender fingers slipped between Yaz’s own and squeezed lightly, instantly at home. It was a simple gesture but it meant a lot, especially since it had happened unprompted. The Doctor could sometimes be a little oblivious about human customs but her hand slid into Yaz’s like it was the most natural thing in the world. It certainly felt like it to Yaz. And feeling the Doctor’s fingers intertwined with her own had the added bonus of making Yasmin Khan feel invincible. 

On this particular day, the Doctor was leading her around the largest botanical gardens in the universe. One hand was linked with Yaz’s own, the other pointing out the most exotic flowers and plants that Yaz had ever seen.

“They’re beautiful,” Yaz exclaimed, unable to comprehend the wealth of colours and patterns that were assaulting her eyes. There was nothing like this on Earth.

“Of course, they don’t hold a flame to you,” the Doctor had reassured her with a cheeky grin, breezing on past the point with characteristic enthusiasm once she’d spotted a rather vicious looking Venus flytrap. 

“Oh wow, Yaz. I thought these were extinct. See these spines?”

Yaz pulled on the hand still within hers, alarmed when the Doctor’s finger drifted dangerously close to the sharp thorns. The Doctor looked at her quizzically. 

“Given your habit of getting into trouble, Doctor, it might be safest if you keep your fingers away from sharp objects,” Yaz explained, providing a comforting squeeze in apology. 

The Doctor smiled sheepishly, accepting Yaz’s comment without complaint, and Yaz breathed a mental sigh of relief as they moved away from the intimidating plant. 

In fact, the rest of the afternoon proceeded without a hitch. The Doctor kept Yaz laughing with several ludicrous stories about her experiences as a botanist - including an interlude about her award-winning bonsai collection - that Yaz found hard to believe. 

“I’ve got a green thumb!”

Yaz watched as the Doctor settled on a plan to prove herself. Her face shifted and Yaz could literally see the moment the metaphorical lightbulb switched on. She laughed affectionately as the Doctor steered her towards a bench and pushed her gently down onto it. 

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Yaz wondered if the Doctor should be left to her own devices but given the lack of incidents thus far and the peacefulness of the environment, she relaxed onto the seat, trusting the Doctor not to get into trouble. It helped that the woman in question turned and gave her a cheerful wave before disappearing down a path and out of view. 

Yaz let her thoughts wander while she waited. For the first time in a long time, she felt truly at peace. Even her mum had commented on how happy she seemed. 

_ Her mum had been waiting in the kitchen when Yaz finally emerged from her bedroom, in need of a strong coffee after spending all night wide awake. She’d been unable to sleep with the Doctor next to her, for several reasons. Yaz had told herself that she needed to keep watch in case the Doctor woke up in pain but really, she couldn’t believe how closely they were lying together. She could hear the Doctor breathing and once she’d picked up on it, it was all she wanted to listen to. That reassuring pattern that told Yaz the Doctor was alive and well.  _

_ Najia handed her a mug without a word and gestured to the kitchen table.  _

_ “Your dad managed to get the blood out of the carpet,” she started, her voice calm. Yaz took a deep breath as she sat down. _

_ “I’m sorry, mum.” _

_ “What on earth for?” _

_ Yaz chewed on her lip.  _

_ “A few things, I guess.” _

_ Najia tilted her head and reached out for Yaz’s free hand, which was lying listlessly on her lap.  _

_ “You never need to apologise for you who you love, Yasmin.” _

“Yaz! Are you ready to leave?”

The Doctor's voice pulled Yaz from her reverie and she jerked her head up as the Doctor re-emerged, hands shoved in her trouser pockets. She frowned in confusion, certain the Doctor had been planning on returning with something, but from the look of it she was empty-handed. That, and she was walking like someone had lit a fire under her.

“Where did you go?” Yaz asked as the Doctor walked past her without stopping, clearly on a mission.

“Oh, just wanted to check something out. It wasn’t there. Never mind, there’s always next time!”

The Doctor’s words came out in a rush and Yaz was alarmed to see how frantic she was. But it wasn’t her usual innate energy that was powering this; no, it was something else, almost panic, tinged with an edge of desperation. Yaz instantly jumped to her feet to follow.

“Doctor? What’s wrong? Why are you walking so fast?"

“Wrong? Nothing! Absolutely nothing. Just realised I left the oven on,” the Doctor replied, but her smile was feeble. It looked more like a grimace. 

“You say that...but your face is telling me a different story,” Yaz replied. “Did you offend someone?”

The Doctor seemed shocked by the very idea. 

“What?! Never. I’m charming, me. Just got a bit bored of the flowers, so if you’re quite ready…”

She trailed off, starting to march back towards the TARDIS. Yaz struggled to keep up. 

“Hold on, Doctor! You’re walking too quickly. I thought we were just out for a casual walk? You know, smell the roses and all that.”

The Doctor turned to look at her and almost stumbled mid-stride. Yaz didn’t fail to notice how she righted her balance without removing her hands from her pockets. 

“Stop walking. Something's wrong.”

“It’s fine, Yaz. I'm fine, but we need to get back."

“No, you're not.” Yaz jogged to catch up, clamping a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder. She could feel her trying to pull away and used her other hand to stop her completely. 

“Yaz, come on! We need-”

But Yaz had tugged on her arm, pulling her hand from the pocket of her coat. 

“Christ,” she swore, dropping the limb when she saw that the Doctor’s hand had turned black. Even so, she could clearly see two holes in the skin that looked suspiciously like puncture marks.

“Odds were 50/50,” the Doctor sighed, removing her other hand. She used it to pick up her injured hand and gingerly placed it back in her coat pocket. 

“What did you do?”

“Oi, how do you know it was me and not the other way around?”

Yaz put her hands on her hips, lips pursed in frustration. The Doctor sighed. 

“Alright, you may have a point. I can’t help myself sometimes, Yaz. I’m a curious soul, a traveller! I also really wanted to give you a present but it turns out…”

Yaz raised an eyebrow, waiting for a full explanation. 

“It turns out…”

“It turns out…?”

“Snakes live in the flowers,” the Doctor mumbled, her face growing slack as she wobbled on her feet. 

Panic flared to life at the word and Yaz held out a steadying hand. 

“Snakes?” She glanced at their surroundings, which suddenly seemed far less charming. Yaz hated snakes.

The Doctor shook her head as she looked at Yaz helplessly. 

_ Not again. _

“Okay, we’re going back,” Yaz sighed, trying to think of the best course of action. This style of thinking was becoming second nature. “Can you walk?”

“Just about. Neurotoxic venom. Got a few minutes, slowed my hearts down a bit.”

"Venom?” Yaz’s voice was shrill and she looked around, panicked, only to see no other signs of life.  _ Where had everyone gone? _

“Paralytic, neurotoxic venom, yes,” the Doctor slurred, now struggling to put one foot in one of the other. 

“That extra detail is not helping,” Yaz muttered, sliding an arm around the Doctor’s waist as she helped support her. She was starting to feel hot under the collar. She was also starting to wish they’d never come here. She could have been chilling out at home, none the wiser, or at work...but then again, life would be boring without the Doctor. For better or worse.

The sense of deja vu was eerie as Yaz finally manhandled the Doctor through the TARDIS doors. She propped the Doctor up while she punched in some coordinates, barely catching her before she slumped to the floor by the console the moment the TARDIS wheezed into life. 

"That should do it," the Doctor said, her voice weaker than Yaz had ever heard it. 

"Where are we going?" Yaz asked, wondering what would await them when they finally landed. Hopefully someone who was better equipped to help them than Yaz was. She could deal with the odd injury, even CPR - as she’d found out recently - but venom was a whole other matter. The Doctor started to list to one side and Yaz just managed to stop her falling to the floor.

It didn't feel particularly safe, crouching on the floor while the TARDIS was in flight, but the Doctor didn't seem like she would be easy to move, and Yaz wasn’t sure she even should try.

"Keep me upright," the Doctor mumbled, feebly tugging on Yaz's arm so that they were sitting together. "Got to keep it away from my brain."

Yaz tried to calm her racing heart as she used her shoulder to keep the Doctor sitting up. She could already see thin veins of black spreading up the Doctor’s neck as she started to pant while the venom in her circulation spread. 

“How do we get it out?” Yaz asked, reaching over to wipe the sweat from the Doctor's brow. 

“We don’t,” the Doctor mumbled, leaning more heavily into Yaz’s shoulder. “Grab my sonic, will you?” 

Yaz slid her hand inside the Doctor’s coat and fished around in her pocket, resolving that the next time she got this close it would be under much better circumstances. 

“You really need a coat with smaller pockets,” she grumbled, trying to lighten the mood. It worked, and she felt the Doctor huff out a laugh beside her. “How do you ever find anything in here?”

“I-”

The Doctor gasped and twisted as Yaz removed the sonic, boots scrambling on the floor for purchase as she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Oh. Muscle cramps. Not fun,” she groaned, crumpling back against the console as the wave passed. Thankfully, it had been brief, but Yaz was instantly worried it would happen again. She eyed the Doctor’s pulses outlined in black as they thudded rapidly against the skin of her neck and wished more than anything that she couldn’t see them. They looked wrong, dangerous, an obvious sign that the Doctor’s own circulatory system was working against her by carrying venom so efficiently around her body. 

The Doctor screwed her eyes shut as she scanned herself, aiming the sonic backwards once she obtained her reading. The effort clearly cost her and she let her arm fall back to her side within seconds, breathing hard. She didn't lift it again and Yaz was alarmed to feel that her whole body had gone rigid. The only movement she could see was the Doctor's chest heaving with panicked breaths.

“Up,” the Doctor moaned, looking upwards briefly and then her eyes closed. 

Yaz hesitated. She was loathe to leave the Doctor but a quick glance upwards showed a glimpse of a monitor displaying information that might come in handy. Making sure the Doctor wouldn’t fall over, Yaz leapt to her feet, eyes scanning the screen. There was a picture and a lot of text and Yaz’s brain refused to take it in, so she whipped out her phone and took a picture, reasoning that she could read it while she kept the Doctor upright. But when she returned to the Doctor’s side mere moments later, she was looking around the room wildly. 

“Yaz? I can't see you.” Although she was clearly trying to stay calm, Yaz could sense the panic in the Doctor’s voice. It took a monumental effort to keep her own steady.

“That's because I'm next to you, not in front of you,” she lied. “I'm here, I promise.” Yaz reached out for the Doctor’s good hand and looked into her eyes, which weren’t focusing. Tiny ribbons of black had crept in around the edges and Yaz wondered if that meant the venom had reached her brain, after all. And if that was the case, how long did they have? 

Yaz ran a comforting hand down the Doctor’s arm, feeling how tense the muscles were under her hand, and just as the TARDIS landed the muscles under her palm started to seize. All she could do was guide the Doctor to the floor as she started to convulse and turn her onto her side. But that was the extent of her first aid training; all she knew was that convulsions had to be waited out, and she started to count the seconds, wishing for this nightmare to be over and feeling desperation surge with every second that passed. 

All she could do was watch and count, mouthing the numbers as she tried not to cry, and then there was the sound of the door creaking open, the sound of voices and feet moving at speed and then she was no longer alone. Yaz barely turned to acknowledge the person who greeted her, so focused was she on watching the Doctor’s face as it slackened, seizure finally over. She let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding. 

“57 seconds,” she said aloud, repeating the number like a mantra. “57 seconds.” 57 of the scariest seconds of her life. 

“Yaz? Is that you?”

The familiar lilt finally prompted Yaz to turn and she did a double take when she realised it was Mabli who had come to their rescue. She looked a little older than she had last time Yaz had seen her, and going by the way in which she directed the medics following her, it seemed that she’d gained a lot more experience since her time on Tsuranga. 

“Mabli? Where are we?”

“Resus One. Well, it’s changed quite a bit since you last saw it,” Mabli replied, leaving her team to focus on the Doctor as she talked with Yaz. “Although you don’t look like you’ve aged a day. What happened? We received a distress call, is anyone else hurt?”

“No. Just the Doctor. She was bitten by something venomous,” Yaz said, eyes snapping back to the woman on the floor as she wrapped her arms around herself. Mabli followed her gaze and frowned in concern. Neither of them failed to notice that the black web had spread and the hand where the Doctor had been bitten was now completely black. 

“And she had a seizure,” Yaz faltered, her stomach turning as she wondered if she’d get to hold the Doctor’s hand again. “57 seconds. That’s helpful, right?”

Mabli nodded grimly. “That’s exactly what we need to know. Well done, Yaz. What else can you tell me?”

Yaz shook her head, at a loss. She hadn’t seen the snake directly, but... 

“Wait! Hang on,” she muttered, fishing around in her pocket for her phone. She unlocked it and opened up the image for Mabli to see. She’d almost forgotten she’d taken it in the mayhem that ensued.

“An Eden asp,” Mabli murmured, recognising the snake instantly. Her face fell before she remembered who was with her and she rapidly corrected it. But Yaz had seen it, and her own face fell when Mabli tried a reassuring smile. 

“Don’t worry, Yaz. You did the right thing bringing her here, and this information is really helpful. Can I take this for now?” Mabli held Yaz’s phone aloft.

Yaz nodded mutely, feeling like all the blood had drained from her body when the Doctor was carried away at speed, her arm hanging limply over the side of the stretcher. 

Mabli gave her a reassuring smile, telling Yaz to follow them as she directed the huddle of people into a room outside the TARDIS. Although Yaz tried to keep up she lost sight of them quickly, but the sounds of chaos were not so easy to lose track of. She barely took in her surroundings, which were vaguely familiar from their last visit; apparently they’d landed in the equivalent of accident and emergency, and Yaz wondered if the Doctor would be annoyed she’d been taken to a place with just initials. 

_ If she ever recovered. _

Yaz slumped gratefully into a chair just outside the room the Doctor had ended up in, but she almost instantly regretted her decision when the flurry of people entering and exiting showed her glimpses inside. People were cutting the Doctor’s clothes, checking her reflexes, calling for drugs, and at the head of it all was Mabli, a calm and commanding presence in the midst of organised chaos. Distantly, Yaz wondered how long it had been since they’d last seen each other because during their first encounter, Mabli had seemed somewhat inexperienced. Now, she was in control, and the idea was immensely reassuring; but the thought was pushed to one side when Yaz saw the Doctor’s hand still hanging over the side of the table. She longed to hold it, to let the Doctor know she wasn’t alone. 

Yaz didn’t even realise she was on her feet until a nurse was at the door, gently pushing her back. 

“It’s best if you wait outside,” the nurse assured her. “Your friend is in the best possible hands.”

With that, the doors were shut firmly in her face and all Yaz had to go on were the sounds of voices and monitors, but she couldn’t shake the mental image of the Doctor’s hand without her own wrapped around it.

* * *

Without her phone, Yaz had no idea of how much time had passed. Either way she was certain it would have felt like an eternity before Mabli emerged, looking exhausted. 

“She’s alive, Yaz. She’ll be alright.”

Mabli wrapped her up in what Yaz had to assume was probably a rather unprofessional hug but she couldn’t have cared less because the comfort it provided was much needed. Yaz could feel the heat of tears staining her cheeks and she held on tight, trying to get a grip on herself before she pulled away. 

Mabli politely ignored her attempts to brush away her tears and gave her a soft smile instead. 

“We had the correct anti-venom, thankfully. The information you gave us saved the Doctor’s life, Yaz.” She handed Yaz back her phone and frowned as Yaz shook her head. 

“I didn’t know what to do. She’s normally so strong, you know? She can get through anything but that...that was terrifying.”

Mabli nodded in sympathy. 

“I can imagine. Seeing someone you love in that kind of way…”

She trailed off as Yaz started to sputter out a protest.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Mabli cut in. “But you should know that she was asking for you. Even when she was dying she was asking for you.”

“She-”

Yaz felt her face start to crumple again, her hard-won composure slipping at an alarming pace. 

“She was dying?” she tried again, clearing her throat. 

“Yes. I could sugar-coat that for you, Yaz, but you should know that. And she asked for you.”

The sentiment hit Yaz like a ton of bricks and she felt her knees weaken. 

“Come on,” Mabli was saying, but she sounded like she was coming from far away. Yaz shook her head, trying to clear the fog. “You can see her, now. She’s asleep though. We had to sedate her after the last time. Couldn’t risk her running around causing havoc.”

Yaz felt a delirious laugh escape her lips and Mabli took a long look at her. 

“I hope you don’t mind me saying, but I think you could do with some rest, too.”

“Probably,” Yaz sighed, feeling like she’d aged ten years in the space of ten hours. “But not until I know the Doctor’s alright.”

Mabli pursed her lips but said nothing more, instead leading Yaz into the room she’d been barricaded from hours previously. 

The Doctor’s skin was no longer streaked with veins of black but she was as pale as the sheets she was covered in and when Yaz reached out to touch her she was so cold that she jerked her hand back. It was like she’d touched a corpse. 

“She’s freezing,” Yaz murmured, hating how exposed and vulnerable the Doctor looked without her usual clothes. A flimsy gown was all she wore and the colour of it only served to emphasise how deathly she looked.

“Yes, apparently her species can control their body temperature.They can even slow their heart rates to help heal themselves,” Mabli murmured, clearly impressed.

Yaz recalled the Doctor mentioning that after she’d been bitten and she nodded, feeling hugely out of her depth. Mabli took the opportunity to point out a seat she’d left by the Doctor’s bedside and Yaz settled into it without another word, reaching out instinctively for the Doctor’s hand and trying to imbue it with the heat from her own. 

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Mabli said, but her words fell on deaf ears. Yaz barely heard the door shut; she was too focused on counting the Doctor’s pulses in the wrist she was holding so carefully. They were there, regular, but slow, and Yaz took great comfort in them. They were the only comfort she’d get until the Doctor woke up. 

“I don’t know if you can hear me, Doctor. But you need to be more careful. Please. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Yaz brought the Doctor’s hand up to her mouth and kissed the back of it. She'd imagined doing that for the past few hours and she let her lips linger, memorising the feeling. She admired how well their fingers fitted together; the Doctor’s were longer and skinnier than her own and Yaz could even make out the scar at the base of her thumb from where she’d cut it open trying to fix the custard cream dispenser. And now, two puncture marks that were already barely visible. Yaz wondered if they would scar but she knew she would always remember them. It was a strong hand, and Yaz wished it would respond to her grip, but for now she would look after it as best she could.

Yaz couldn’t be sure whether it was her grip or her words that woke the Doctor, but moments later her eyes were blearily opening to fix on Yaz. 

“Cor, it’s cold.”

“Oh my god,” Yaz cried, feeling her restraint crumble completely as she leaned out of the chair to kiss the Doctor soundly on the mouth. 

“You melon. Never do that again,” she blurted, embarrassed by her reaction when she saw the Doctor’s dopey grin in response. 

“Melon? I’m not a melon fan. Watermelon, maybe.”

“Doctor, I’m being serious.”

“So am I, cantaloupes are disgusting.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree. But that’s not the point, Doctor. Why did you hide this?”

Yaz held up her hand, gesturing to the faint puncture wounds. 

“I wanted a stress free date with you,” the Doctor said simply, sighing as she shifted to get comfortable. 

Yaz couldn’t help but embrace the flurry of warmth that accompanied the Doctor’s words. It was a welcome change from the cold terror she’d been living for the past few hours. 

“A date, hey?”

The Doctor’s mouth opened and shut without another word and Yaz took pity on her.

“I'm only joking, Doctor. But maybe we can make up for it with another one. Go see a movie or something?”

The Doctor nodded, relieved that Yaz had let her off the hook. Then she shivered hard enough for Yaz to notice. 

“Are you cold? I can get you another blanket.” She reluctantly let go of the Doctor’s hand as she got to her feet, scanning the room for supplies. 

“Where are my clothes? This doesn't count as clothing,” the Doctor grumbled, lifting the sheet to inspect what she was wearing. Yaz was alarmed to see that she was already trying to get out of bed. 

“You aren't going anywhere just yet, Doctor. You shouldn’t even be awake. I don’t think Mabli gave you enough of the good stuff.”

Yaz gently pushed her back, ignoring the Doctor’s attempt at a pout - partly because she was far too good at them and partly because Yaz knew she was incredibly susceptible to them - and kicked off her shoes. 

“Bed rest,” she continued, tugging off her coat. “Budge over.”

The drugs apparently were working because it took the Doctor a few more seconds than usual to cotton on. Her eyes grew wide. “Oh.”

“Any complaints?” Yaz hesitated.

“From me? No,” the Doctor shook her head enthusiastically. “Bed rest with Yasmin Khan? Sounds perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can find me on twitter @_mag_lex
> 
> All my fics can now be found at maglexfic dot wordpress dot com. I'll be posting all new works there going forward and not on ao3 so I'd recommend checking it out and subscribing!


	5. Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't as whumpy as usual, but I'll be making up for that in the next chapter ;) Hopefully you'll still enjoy!

The Doctor’s skin was always far cooler than Yaz’s own, a fact that she was always shocked to remember. For example, when cool fingers made contact with the warmth of her forearm as the Doctor tried to get her attention. Or how her palms always felt so chilled when they pressed against her own, like she’d been outside in cold weather for too long. Or like the previous night, when they had finally drifted under the soft material of Yaz’s t-shirt as they kissed on the sofa. Yaz had tried not to flinch at the contrast in temperatures but the fact that the Doctor had her hand up her shirt also made her squirm. 

The Doctor had noticed instantly, jerking her hand away. 

“Sorry, Yaz. Didn’t realise what I was doing, there.”

Yaz didn’t buy her excuse at all but she appreciated the opportunity to catch the breath the Doctor had been intent on depriving her of. 

“You don’t need to apologise,” she breathed, letting her head fall back to the cushion conveniently placed underneath her head, courtesy of the Doctor. The Doctor, on the other hand, had propped herself up more fully, putting some space between their bodies as they lay entwined together. 

In reality, Yaz wanted to know how cool the Doctor’s skin felt everywhere else. She’d had only the briefest of touches until now and she knew it was soft, but she wanted to warm it with her hands in ways that she’d been denied thus far. 

The Doctor also seemed to sense her need to take things slow, clearly limiting herself to the most innocent touches possible. It had, however, made the tension between them borderline unbearable, and Yaz had to subtly squeeze her thighs together to relieve some of the pressure between them. 

“I should be the one apologising,” Yaz blurted, slightly embarrassed. They were both clearly turned on and Yaz had essentially shoved them under a metaphorical cold tap. 

“There’s no rush,” the Doctor had replied. “We have all the time in the world.”

The Doctor’s hair framed her face as she looked down at Yaz and they shared a grin, like giddy teenagers. Their next kiss was far less frenzied but no less heated and Yaz felt herself squirming again, for entirely different reasons. 

“Soon,” she’d murmured, tucking some blonde hair behind an ear to try and keep her hands busy before she did something rash. “I promise.”

She didn’t realise the next time they’d be in such close quarters would be less than 24 hours later. Or that she’d wish she’d bitten the bullet right then and there because the future was never guaranteed, especially with the Doctor.

This time, the Doctor had taken them to London to see Old St Paul’s Cathedral, because Graham had refused to believe that the St Paul’s he knew and loved wasn’t actually the original construction. 

“Take a deep breath of medieval London, fam!” the Doctor had enthused, spreading her arms wide as she strode out of the TARDIS and into the muck lining the streets. Even that didn’t dampen her enthusiasm, but the pong took Yaz a moment to get used to. 

“Wait,” the Doctor frowned, and Yaz wondered if the overwhelming odours had finally registered. The Doctor scrunched up her nose experimentally, even as Yaz resisted the urge to pinch hers and try to block out the smells assaulting her senses. “Not even Tudor. We’ve got a bit ahead of ourselves, I think, but with any luck the cathedral is still as it was. Come on,” she said, turning with a grin that was infectious and beckoning her companions onward. 

Her smile encouraged Yaz to adapt to their new environment and she followed quickly, taking care to sidestep the mud the Doctor had managed to step straight into. The others followed suit, muttering something about the need for wellies, but Yaz barely heard what she said. She was too eager to catch up to the Doctor, who was acting like a very enthusiastic tour guide and currently marching them towards their destination. 

They were lucky: the cathedral was there and it was very different to the one Yaz knew, so they’d managed to come at the right time. People were milling about in the shadows of the building, talking and laughing. Someone was preaching, loudly, droning on about something or other that Yaz didn’t care to listen to. The Doctor finally ground to a halt at some large doors at the far end of the building, waiting for the others to catch up before she could tell them all about what they were looking at. 

“I’ve got to say...it’s not quite what I was expecting,” Graham commented. He seemed disappointed. 

“Well, bear in mind that this was first built in 1087, it’s not doing too badly. Of course, it didn’t take much for the Great Fire to finish it off. It’s already starting to fall to pieces.”

“You can say that again,” Graham replied. “I’m pretty sure the roof has a hole in it.”

“Shall we go in and see?” the Doctor grinned, seemingly unperturbed by the unglamorous building they’d come to visit. Ryan shrugged. Graham hesitated. Yaz made up for the lack of enthusiasm by nodding avidly.

“Knew you’d like a nosey, Yaz.”

If the atmosphere outside was chaotic, the one inside was even more so. 

“What on earth...I thought churches were meant to be quiet? Places of worship and all that?” Graham was becoming even less impressed, Yaz could tell. 

“More like place of gossip,” the Doctor said, tapping the side of her nose with her finger. “Best place to catch up on the latest news.”

“Blimey. Well, all this gossip is giving me a bit of a headache. Didn’t they have pubs to go and gossip in?” Graham groused.

“You just want to go to the pub, don’t you?” Ryan pointed out and Yaz had to laugh at the look of delight that flitted across Graham’s face at the suggestion. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to a pint. What do you say, Doc? Can we live like locals for a bit?”

The Doctor barely heard him. Yaz realised she was still sniffing the air curiously. 

“What’s up?” she asked, sensing something was amiss. 

“I can’t figure out when we are,” the Doctor frowned. “There are too many smells to pin it down.”

“Do we need to know? You managed to get us here in time to see it, not that Graham seems to have enjoyed himself.”

“I’ll enjoy myself if we find a pub,” Graham chipped in, and Ryan nodded. 

“I suppose we could stay for a bit. Maybe we could see some theatre. Ooh! If we made it in time to catch some Shakespeare, I could pay him a visit. He still owes me money.”

* * *

Unfortunately for the Doctor, they didn’t find Shakespeare. Apparently they were a bit too late for that. But after a couple of drinks, Graham was appeased, at least, and chatting happily to a regular. Ryan had underestimated his tolerance for alcohol because three pints in and he was half-asleep beside Yaz. Yaz wondered how they’d get him back to the TARDIS, but the Doctor surprised her. 

“Want to stay the night?” 

She was so direct that Yaz paused, wondering if the others had heard. But Ryan lolled beside her and Graham continued chattering away, so she exhaled shakily, feeling butterflies come to life. Normally, they slept on the TARDIS when they were on an adventure. Yaz also usually slept alone, since the Doctor didn’t need much sleep at all, but it wasn’t like she could roam the streets of London alone at night. No, chances were that she was going to spend the night with Yaz. In the same bed. The last few times they’d shared a bed, the Doctor had been recovering from some kind of mortal injury. This time, she would be fully capable of anything she put her mind to. Yaz gulped.

“Here?”

“I don’t know about you but I think these two might have over-indulged,” the Doctor said, gesturing at the others. 

Yaz had to admit she had a point. “Shall I ask if they have any spare rooms?”

“Let me,” the Doctor smiled, heading off to the bar before Yaz could move a muscle. Yaz could see her flashing her psychic paper while she chatted animatedly with the barmaid, who apparently had a bit of a thing for Graham because moments later she looked over and winked at him. 

Yaz sighed as she felt Ryan fall more fully into her side. Although she was secretly rather thrilled by the idea of spending the night, she wondered if she’d embarrass herself or do something foolish the moment she and the Doctor were in bed together. 

“Time to divide and conquer,” the Doctor said as she returned. “Graham?”

She waited for him to stop his discussion about the finer points of cricket, fingertips drumming on her hip. 

“What’s that, Doc?”

“We’ll stay the night. Your friend behind the bar has a room for you and Ryan upstairs. Me and Yaz are going to stay just over the road.” She jerked a thumb backwards and Yaz couldn’t help but look, realising it was futile when all she could see was a crowd of people. The pub felt very hot and claustrophobic all of a sudden and she lurched to her feet, more than ready to get some fresh air. Ryan almost fell to his side and Yaz turned guiltily, helping to prop him up. 

“Do you want a hand getting him upstairs?”

Graham shook his head, giving Ryan a nudge. “Come on, son. Bedtime for you.”

Yaz bade them goodnight as Graham’s new friend helped get Ryan to his feet. She almost jumped when a cool hand slid into her own. 

“Shall we?” the Doctor asked, her expression hard to gauge. For once, Yaz was sure she could feel her hand start to grow warm where the skin was pressed against Yaz’s own. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded, following the Doctor across the road - she hadn’t been lying - and into a much quieter building. She was glad for the quiet but she could hear her heart pounding in her ears that much better because of it. Mutely, she followed the Doctor up some narrow stairs and into a calm and quiet room, which looked surprisingly comfortable. It had one bed.

The door to the bedroom creaked shut behind her, leaving them alone. 

“Alright, Yaz?” the Doctor asked, taking the opportunity to shed her coat. She always looked so much younger without it on, Yaz mused. 

“Yeah. I was getting a bit of a headache.”

“Not as bad as what Ryan will be feeling tomorrow morning,” the Doctor laughed, kicking off her boots. Yaz followed suit, removing her own outer layers. She did so slowly, following the Doctor’s lead. It wasn’t like they had pyjamas to sleep in and she didn’t want to strip completely if the Doctor wasn’t going to do the same. She breathed a sigh of relief as the Doctor kept her clothes on, perching on the end of the bed. 

“So…”

“So,” Yaz echoed. She was terribly nervous and the Doctor was clearly waiting for her to set the mood.

“I-”

Before Yaz could say another word, there was a commotion from outside. 

“Probably someone getting kicked out of the pub,” the Doctor said, jumping to her feet regardless and heading to the window. She was always curious. “I bet I can guess who, those two fellas by the door looked like they were about to get into a fight when we left.”

Yaz ran her hands over her jeans, trying to stop her palms from being quite so clammy.

“Hm. Not the pub,” the Doctor muttered, sniffing the air again. She opened the window and as she did, Yaz caught a flash of orange in the reflection. 

“Doctor…”

“Do you smell burning?”

It took Yaz a second longer for the smell to carry through but with a sinking feeling she realised the Doctor was right. 

“Yes.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” the Doctor turned, trying a reassuring smile out for size. “I might just go and check. Wait here for me?”

Yaz hesitated. Normally she’d run after the Doctor but she was trying to calm her nerves and needed a moment. It probably was nothing, she reasoned. It was already late. 

“Okay. But if you’re not back in five minutes, I’m coming to find you.”

“I’ll be back by then,” the Doctor replied, shoving her boots back on. “Promise!”

With a flurry of her coat-tails she was gone. Yaz breathed out a sigh of relief and then the door opened again and the Doctor blustered back in, collecting Yaz’s face in her hands and leaving a gentle kiss on her lips. 

“Sorry. Forgot something very important.”

Yaz gawped and the Doctor was gone again before she could utter a word.

In hindsight, Yaz knew she shouldn’t have let the Doctor out of her sight. Only a few minutes passed before that orange glow became even brighter and Yaz paced over to the window, chewing on her thumbnail as she saw what was clearly a fire lighting the adjacent rooftops. It had spread so quickly that she gasped aloud and fumbled for her shoes, leaving her jacket behind. 

She emerged into chaos, crossing the street to stand outside the pub. It had just caught, if the smoke coming from the roof and upper windows was anything to go by. 

Ryan and Graham were inside.

She took a step forward and the moment she did, Graham emerged from the door and into the crowd gathering outside. He was covered in soot and coughing.

“Graham! What happened?”

He looked at her in surprise, before a coughing fit wracked him and he braced himself on his knees, gasping for breath. 

“Ryan’s still in there,” he gasped. “The Doc came to get us, sent me out ahead of them. They were trying to get people out.” 

Graham winced, coughing. “That fire...it came from nowhere. I couldn’t get Ryan out without help. But they were just behind me, just-”

He coughed again, tears coming to his eyes. Yaz laid a tentative hand on his back. 

“Just behind me.”

Yaz could sense the fear, guilt, and terror rolling off him in waves. She squared her shoulders, feeling her nerves finally dissipate. She needed to act on her instincts as a matter of urgency.

“I’m going in.”

His protests fell on deaf ears as Yaz headed for the door, brushing past people who were gathering outside the burning building. There was panic but also shock, and a sense of helplessness. As she stepped inside she could hear the structure groaning, and she felt a wave of heat embrace her like an old friend. The smoke hadn’t reached the ground floor but neither had the Doctor, apparently. Yaz headed for the door that Ryan and Graham had used earlier, assuming it led upstairs. But just as she was about to open it, Ryan barrelled through in a panic. 

“Yaz!”

“Oh god, Ryan,” Yaz exclaimed, relieved to see him. But there was no sign of the Doctor. “Graham’s outside, he’s safe. Where’s the Doctor?”

“She hit her head. Help me,” he pleaded, still wobbling on his feet. Life-threatening situations had a way of sobering people up.

The smoke had started to curl in the air as Yaz made her way up the stairs behind Ryan, quickly lifting her top up so it covered her mouth and nose. It made little difference and she felt her eyes water from the smoke, doing her best not to cough and inhale even more. Ryan, on the other hand, was blindly walking through the smoke in a panic. 

“Here, Yaz!” he called, coughing as he breathed in too deeply. Yaz squinted, then crouched on the floor as she reached the crumpled form of the Doctor. She was out for the count, bleeding from the head. 

“We have to get her out, now,” Yaz pulled down the material over her mouth and shouted, feeling smoke invade her lungs. She could taste it and the acrid heat made her feel sick. She nodded to Ryan as they bent over to grab hold of the Doctor’s arms. Yaz sent a mental apology as they dragged her to the stairs as quickly as they could. 

The heat of the flames chased them and Yaz hesitated only momentarily. 

With a grimace, she reached for the Doctor’s feet and started to drag her down the stairs. 

“Ryan, grab her arms. Mind her head,” she coughed. Oxygen was becoming a necessity and they needed to hurry. She didn’t even know if the Doctor was breathing. They’d have to cross that bridge when they came to it. 

Their journey out of the building, although it took no longer than one or two minutes, felt like an eternity, and by the time they’d carried the Doctor outside she was practically on the ground, sagging between them like a dead weight. As soon as they were out into the night air, Yaz took a moment to catch her breath, feeling entirely nauseous. 

“Ryan!” Graham shouted, and Yaz was glad to see he’d recovered slightly. “Are you alright? How’s the Doc?” he asked Yaz, giving her a solid pat on the back. “You got her out, love.”

Yaz nodded, still breathing hard. She dropped to her knees beside the Doctor’s prone form, knowing that Ryan was in safe hands with his granddad. The Doctor, on the other hand, was her responsibility. 

She lifted trembling fingers to the Doctor’s neck, relieved to find her pulses still there, and racing. Her skin was warm to the touch. 

“Doctor?” Yaz asked, her voice hoarse from the smoke. She coughed, again, and tried once more to rouse her. 

“Doctor, you need to wake up.”

In the gloom, Yaz could make out the damage the Doctor had managed to incur. Not only was her head bleeding freely but her hands were blistered, pink and raw. The white sleeves of her shirt had blackened and torn in places, exposing burned skin underneath. She hadn’t been in the building long but she’d managed to burn herself terribly.

“She tried to get everyone out,” Graham explained when he realised what Yaz had seen. “The doorhandles were metal. They burned her, but she kept going.” Graham explained, and Yaz realised that Ryan was also hovering over her shoulder. 

“Did she get them out?” Yaz asked, looking around as she realised a small crowd had started to gather around them. 

“Yeah. Yeah, she helped nearly all of them, Yaz.” Graham was beaming, but it also looked like he'd been crying.

“Will she be alright?” one woman asked, clearly one of the people the Doctor had rescued if her soot-covered face was anything to go by. Yaz nodded. 

“She’ll be alright," Yaz said, as much for herself as for anyone else. "She just needs to wake up. And then we need to get her out of here.”

As if on cue, the Doctor started to stir. The crowd started to mutter as her eyes fluttered open in confusion, and she squinted up at Yaz. 

“Yaz? What are you doing here?” she asked, almost instantly reaching for her head and tutting when Yaz gently brushed her hand away.

“Saving your bacon,” Yaz replied, overjoyed that the Doctor was at least awake. The crowd were, too, going by the murmurs of relief she could hear from the people behind her. “Although you’re a little crispier than usual.”

“Huh,” the Doctor frowned, wincing as she flexed her fingers. “Is everyone out?” she asked, pushing herself upright so quickly that Yaz couldn’t even attempt to stop her. To her credit, she wavered only slightly as she glanced around the crowd. Apparently she’d managed to avoid breathing in any of the smoke because the only damage seemed to be external. 

“Yes, Doc. All these people. You got them out,” Graham supplied. 

“You did. The least we can do is get you to a doctor,” a man in the crowd interjected. “You saved our lives.”

“Oh, I don’t need a doctor,” the Doctor replied. “Just a nap.” 

“At the very least, let me take you to safety,” the man continued.

“He has a horse, Doc,” Graham chipped in. “Would be a lot easier than walking in your state.”

“My state?” the Doctor frowned, then looked down at herself. “Oh, no. I liked this shirt.”

Ryan and Graham looked at each other with concern. It was a bit strange, Yaz had to agree, for the Doctor to fixate on the damage to her clothing.

“You’ve got plenty more where those came from, Doc. I think a burned shirt is the least of your worries.”

Yaz had to agree. 

“Come on. We’re going back to the TARDIS, and getting you cleaned up.”

* * *

“Are you going to let me help?” Yaz asked, hands on her hips as she watched the Doctor hobble into the bathroom adjoining her bedroom. It secretly pleased her that the Doctor had essentially made Yaz’s bedroom on the TARDIS her own, despite never using it. 

“Nah, I’ll be fine, Yaz.”

The Doctor hissed as she flexed her burned fingers. One brief look of pain and Yaz had had enough. 

“That might be the case but I think this would be a lot easier and more efficient if you’d let me. Your hands are going to be out of commission for a little while.”

“Shame” the Doctor smiled softly, and Yaz scoffed. 

“Your mind. Sit down,” she said, guiding the Doctor to the edge of the bath and starting to run it. She made sure the water was cool to the touch. “I’m going to cut these shirts off, alright?”

The Doctor nodded, watching quietly as Yaz rummaged in the cupboard under the sink for her first aid kit. She’d insisted on keeping one after the recent scrapes the Doctor had got herself into. Without hesitating, Yaz made quick work of the Doctor’s shirts, trying to hold her nerve as she carefully peeled away the material. The Doctor shivered as the skin of her torso was exposed to the air and Yaz bit her lip when she saw just how much of it had started to blister. She could feel the heat emanating from the Doctor’s body.

“You feel warm,” she muttered. “You’re probably not going to like this next step very much.”

The Doctor grimaced knowingly. “It’s alright, Yaz. I could do with cooling down. Suddenly feeling a bit hot.”

Yaz raised an eyebrow. 

“That doesn’t have anything to do with the fact I just cut your shirts off?” she joked, trying to keep the mood light. In reality, the Doctor didn’t look at all well. Yaz hurried to remove her boots and trousers. One of her legs had also been injured by something, apparently, because it was bruised and bloody. 

“You look like you’ve been through the wars,” Yaz murmured. “I can’t believe we ended up in the Great Fire of London, of all things.”

The Doctor shivered as Yaz helped her into the cool water, biting back a moan of pain as it soothed her raw skin. 

“I need to work on my sense of smell,” the Doctor sighed, teeth chattering as the water sloshed around her calves

“Take it easy,” Yaz urged, keeping a firm grip on the Doctor’s upper arm to stop her sliding in too fast. “I’m going to clean your head while you cool down. Keep talking to me.”

The Doctor started a running commentary about the architectural achievements of Sir Christopher Wren while Yaz gathered some bandages and antiseptic. It was hard to believe what had just happened from the way the Doctor was chattering away; only when Yaz turned back to see the state of her face did it hit her that the Doctor had nearly died in a burning building. 

“Five minutes is clearly too long to leave you to your own devices,” Yaz mused as she started to wipe away the worst of the muck and blood from the Doctor’s face. “I’m only letting you out of my sight for 30 seconds, tops, from now on.”

“I can live with that,” the Doctor smiled, eyes drooping despite the coolness of the water. 

“Come on, Doctor. Keep telling me things. How many churches did Wren design, again?”

“54. Phenomenal number, really,” the Doctor mused, fixing her eyes on Yaz as she worked. Yaz made a conscious effort not to glance at anything but the wound she was cleaning. To her surprise it was already far less bloody than it had been, and she wondered if the blood made it look worse than it actually was. 

“Already healing,” the Doctor said, and then Yaz wondered if she could read her mind. 

“You don’t say,” Yaz breathed. “Humour me, though. Just a couple more minutes to cool you down.”

“Alright,” the Doctor agreed, surprisingly compliant. Out of the corner of her eye, Yaz could see the Doctor struggle to keep her hands under the water. As well as a whole lot of skin she wasn’t quite prepared for. She almost dropped the cotton wool she was using into the water.

“You know earlier? Before all this,” Yaz said, alluding to the scenario they’d found themselves in. 

“Mm,” the Doctor murmured, and Yaz was pleased to see the tension draining from her face as she finished cleaning it.

“Staying in that place. Was that your equivalent of a dirty weekend? With me?”

Yaz could feel her heart pounding again and she was surprised when the Doctor started to laugh, a rich sound that echoed around the room. 

“A what?”

“You know. When people go away just to…”

“Have sex?” the Doctor supplied, unfazed. “I don’t think I’d ever take you away on a dirty weekend, Yaz. I’d want it to sound a lot more romantic than that, for a start.”

Yaz felt herself blushing as the Doctor finally turned to face her and was glad her breasts were hidden by the side of the bath. The Doctor’s arms were braced against the porcelain and Yaz was surprised to see that the skin there was far less pink than it had been.

“Unless that’s what you’d like?”

Yaz shook her head. “I mean...well, I do want that with you. The..sex.”

_ Why could she not get through this sentence? _ Yaz was starting to wish she’d never opened her mouth. 

“I just want it to be special,” she concluded, busying herself with some plasters. She placed one carefully over the wound on the Doctor’s forehead, wondering if it was even necessary anymore. Her fingers trembled slightly and she brought them back to her sides, willing herself to stay calm in the proximity of a very wet and very naked Doctor. A very naked Doctor who was currently looking at her like she was the centre of her universe.

“Yasmin Khan. Anything and everything with you has been, and will be, special. I’ll make sure of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can find me on twitter @_mag_lex
> 
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	6. Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After outlining this fic at the end of last year, and being very slow at updating it, it's kind of ironic that this chapter - the one that's come out closest to The Timeless Children - also contains themes of torture. For that reason I actually kind of didn't want to work on it for a bit because that episode was so 13-whump-heavy (and I loved it) that I felt guilty for continuing it. But the time has now come to post this bad boy. 
> 
> Roughly 7500 words of whump. Enjoy! If you can enjoy whump...

Yaz enjoyed looking at the Doctor's face. Not just the way it was arranged while in repose, but the way it came to life in reaction to the world around her. The Doctor’s expressions were so changeable that she could shift from mischief to wonder to joy within milliseconds, and Yaz loved to track the movement of the emotions across her face. They were miniature journeys, catalogued by the laughter lines around her eyes and the scrunch of her nose. Her mouth was equally expressive and Yaz loved that the Doctor had no qualms about pulling faces that many others would probably consider childlike. She especially loved that the Doctor didn’t guard her face around her.

In fact, the Doctor’s face looked totally different when they were alone. Softer, maybe, but no less alive and utterly charming. And when they were in bed together, as had started to happen only recently, Yaz was certain she'd never seen her look so beautiful. When the Doctor rested her eyes - apparently she didn’t sleep, although Yaz was sure she’d heard her snoring lightly - she looked younger than Yaz had ever seen her; when she kissed her way across the skin of Yaz’s stomach, the focus on her face took Yaz’s breath away. And when Yaz moved her hand between the Doctor’s legs, well...the faces she made then were especially memorable. Partly because they were so new and unfamiliar, but also partly because Yaz had put them there. She took particular pride in that.

“Ready?” the Doctor beamed, fixing her gaze on Yaz and Yaz alone. Yaz revelled in the attention, positively basking in it. Nothing could dampen her mood when the Doctor looked at her like that. Especially when they’d spent such a wonderful night together only a few hours previously. Yaz hid a yawn behind her hand and the Doctor’s eyes crinkled with mirth.

“I s’pose,” Graham grumbled, kitted out in wet weather gear. Apparently they’d arrived in a storm but the Doctor had assured them that they wouldn’t be out in the elements for long, and that the research base was nearby. Graham remained to be convinced, hence the outerwear. 

Ryan tugged his hoodie over his head and opened the door, squinting into the gloom.

“It’s dark out,” he said. “Are you sure the waterproofing on this is going to work?” he asked, holding up his mobile phone. The Doctor had insisted on waterproofing all of their phones but Yaz could understand Ryan’s reluctance to believe her claims that they’d be 100% dry. He loved his phone and was very protective over it after the Doctor had reformatted it and lost all of his photos.

“Positive, Ryan. In fact, I’d put money on it, if I gambled. Which I have been known to do, but not with money. My preferred currency is-”

“Ok, ok,” Ryan cut in, sensing she was about to go off on one. He rolled his eyes at Yaz but Yaz barely noticed, too busy staring at the Doctor’s face. 

“Shall we?” 

The Doctor strode to the door, automatically holding her hand out for Yaz before remembering they had company and reeling it back in, throwing it out of the door instead in an extravagant gesture. 

“Alright, Doc, if you insist on us going first,” Graham muttered, jacket rustling as he led the way, followed by Ryan. The Doctor hung back, waiting until the others were distracted just enough to drop the briefest of kisses against Yaz’s lips. 

“That’ll have to tide us over ‘til later,” she murmured. Yaz wondered how on earth she was going to concentrate for the next few hours. 

“Where we headed, Doc?” Graham called back, shouting over the rain. Yaz gingerly stepped out and into mud so slick she nearly slipped. The Doctor reached for her instantly, steadying her. 

“Did you want to put some sturdier shoes on?” she suggested, and Yaz took a look at the others. She’d been so distracted that morning that she hadn’t given much thought to what she’d put on. Even her jacket wasn’t practical and the sight of Graham in his rain coat hadn’t prompted a single rational thought to enter her mind. She’d been too busy looking at the Doctor. 

Thankfully, she wasn’t the only one. Ryan made his way back to them, slipping and sliding. His hoodie was already soaked through. Graham, on the other hand, was well equipped and shrugged, more than content to poke around in the bushes at the edge of the forest boundary.

“I need to change, too,” Ryan exclaimed, and the Doctor grimaced at the mess of mud and water he made as he jumped through the TARDIS doors. 

Before she could complain aloud, however, her head whipped around and she scoured the forest in front of them. Yaz realised with a start that Graham was nowhere to be seen and it was only after a few moments that she realised he was calling the Doctor over. His voice was almost drowned out by the rain.

“Go on, Yaz,” the Doctor encouraged. “Put something drier on. I’ll see you in a mo.”

With a smile, the Doctor darted into the rain, arms flailing as she successfully managed to navigate her way through the mud to the edge of the trees.

It was the last Yaz saw of her. 

Yaz had changed quickly, wanting to minimise the time they were apart, but Ryan had taken his time. When he finally emerged, dressed much the same as he had been - but with a jacket on instead of a hoodie, and some black trainers instead of white ones - Yaz sighed. 

“What took you so long?”

“Had to get dry first,” he grumbled. “What’s the hurry, anyway?”

“Nothing,” Yaz responded, already walking to the doors. She opened them, expecting to see the others and faced with nothing but dark emptiness. She shivered, zipping up her rain jacket. 

“Graham called the Doctor over,” Yaz pointed, gesturing to the forest. “They must still be there.”

Ryan frowned. 

“How are we going to find them in there? It’s pitch black.”

“Get out that special waterproof phone of yours and we can use it as a torch, Ryan.”

Yaz wondered what had got into him. He’d been distracted of late, borderline reluctant most days to even set foot outside. He hadn’t told Yaz what was going on but he had expressed dissatisfaction with how things were going more generally; Yaz wondered if he was going to spend more time at home than with them. The thought saddened her, so she tried not to think about it; and besides, Ryan hadn’t explicitly said he was going to stay behind. 

“Right,” he agreed, shaking the device. Apparently the Doctor had also boosted the bulb because the light almost blinded them.

“Whoah,” Yaz winced, screwing her eyes shut. She could see the outline of the phone even with her eyes closed and she rubbed at them, trying to dissipate the after-image. 

“Point it over there, yeah?”

“Yeah. Sorry, Yaz,” Ryan apologised, and Yaz did a double take. She’d been expecting a joke about the Doctor messing his phone up but he was subdued, pointing the light mutely in the direction of the trees.

There was no sign of life. Yaz tried to stay calm.

“Doctor?” she called out, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice. Ryan shouted over the rain for Graham, and between them there was no way the others couldn’t hear them. But there was no response other than the persistent sound of the rain hitting the leaves.

“Where did they go?”

* * *

The Doctor had tried to bite back a cry of pain when her leg had been freed from the trap but Graham heard it slip out before she could clench her jaw and bite down on the sound. 

“Doc-”

The man behind him shoved Graham, hard, between the shoulder blades, enough to almost send him toppling. 

“Alright, sunshine,” Graham protested, holding up his hands in case he lost his balance but also to try and soothe ruffled feathers. He cast a wary eye at the Doctor, who was grabbing hold of her now-freed leg and inspecting the damage. 

The trap - not too dissimilar from a bear trap - had nearly snapped around his own leg but the Doctor had shoved him out of the way in the nick of time. Unfortunately, momentum had carried her onwards and placed her own leg within reach of the metal jaws, which snapped shut so violently that Graham had shouted in surprise, loudly, followed shortly by the Doctor’s own exclamation of shock. Then, agony. 

Graham had been at a loss for what to do. The Doctor’s shoulders were silently heaving and he couldn’t tell if she was crying but he couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain she was in. She trembled with it, gasping loudly as her hands clenched at her sides, then reached for the trap in an instinctive move to get out of it. 

“Stop, Doc,” he cautioned. “Don’t move. It might make it worse.”Her head was bowed but Graham was certain he could see her nod. Apparently, it was too painful to talk. 

“What about your sonic? Can I get it for you, Doctor? Let me help.” Graham hovered, longing to be of use. He felt terribly guilty and the silence was unnerving. The only thing he could hear was that damned rain.

The Doctor didn’t move for a long moment and Graham realised she was gathering her wits about her. Getting a grip on the pain. He’d broken his leg, once, and he recalled the surge of adrenaline that had helped him ride it out. If the Doctor even ran on adrenaline. Most of the time she seemed to be fuelled by sugar alone.

“Pocket,” she bit out, and Graham was just reaching for the lapel of her coat when a different noise registered. It wasn’t rain. It was movement, in the trees. 

“Yaz?” he called, turning to look for the source. He couldn’t see a thing. “Yaz?” he repeated, calling louder. “Ryan? We’re here! The Doc needs our help.”

The sound happened again. But this time, it came from behind him. Much closer behind him. Graham's heart clenched when he realised the others would have at least called back. Whoever was coming their way was being deliberately quiet.

He had turned just in time to see two figures emerge from the trees, dressed all in black. His hope that the others had found them was short-lived and his face fell when he saw their expressions. These men - assuming they were human, they certainly looked familiar in that sense - clearly meant business. They were dressed in what looked like army gear, armed with weapons that looked uncomfortably like guns.

Which had brought them to this particular point. One of the men gestured brusquely to Graham with his gun, pointing him in the direction of the Doctor, who was slumped on the muddy ground and shaking with pain. Her leg was mangled and she looked as pale as a ghost. Graham distantly wondered if the trap had hit an artery but when the man kicked him towards her, he filed that thought away for later. If it had, she’d be in a far worse state than she currently was. Not that she was in a good way, by any means.

“Doc? Do you think you can stand?” he asked, bracing himself on his knees as he tried to catch her eye. Her gaze was wandering. She was in shock, clearly, but they didn’t have time to deal with it properly. Graham grimaced as he wrapped an arm around her back and helped her to her feet, apologising constantly to her as she moaned in pain. 

“I’m so sorry, Doc. I think they want us to move.”

“S’ok,” she gasped, teeth clenched as they took a tentative step forward. She nearly crumpled with the next one and Graham wrapped his arm more securely around her, hoping beyond hope that they could get to their destination without issue. Preoccupied as he was, Graham didn’t notice the faint glow that appeared at the Doctor’s fingertips, but their captors certainly did.

* * *

“Shine that light down here a sec,” Yaz instructed, wiping rain from her brow. The torrent hadn’t let up but it was less of a concern than it had been previously; instead, she was looking for clues as to the whereabouts of the Doctor and Ryan. 

Footprints.

“Look, see them?” she exclaimed, pointing them out. Ryan nodded. 

“There are loads.”

“Yeah.” Yaz felt herself deflate slightly. Their first clue and it had made her even more concerned. 

When Ryan moved the torch sideways, it caught on something reflective that ramped up her worry. 

“Yaz, what’s that?”

He pointed and Yaz followed his finger to a gleaming contraption only a few metres away. It looked very much like a trap, and the teeth of it were coated in something that looked terribly like blood. Yaz’s hand hovered over the spikes, feeling hope start to wane. What were the odds that the Doctor had been trapped? Or Graham? It didn’t look promising, either way. 

Yaz had a sinking feeling that it was the Doctor’s blood she’d seen. It had an orange tinge to it.

“Do you think…” Ryan started, words faltering as Yaz turned to look at him stonily. 

“We weren’t gone that long,” he tried, although Yaz could tell he felt sheepish. Regardless, she didn’t hold back. The sight of the Doctor’s blood had deprived her of composure.

“But we were, Ryan. You took 15 bloody minutes getting changed. And look what happened!” she gestured with her arms to the dark and empty forest surrounding them. “They’ve gone. And one of them is hurt, all because you were so bloody selfish.”

Before Ryan could respond, a blood-curdling scream cut through the noise of the rain. It was faint but it was definitely there because both of them looked at one another the moment they heard it. 

Across the forest, Graham heard it, too. He had resigned himself to sitting on the floor of the damp cell, watching the door for any sign of their captors. But he was alone. The Doctor had been taken somewhere else and he’d been shoved unceremoniously in this cell, none the wiser as to what their captors wanted. He’d tried to ask en route and had received a thwack to the kidneys, which had successfully stopped him from opening his mouth again, other than to check on the Doctor. She’d been walking more easily by the end, and her breaths were less laboured, which was something. She’d always said she was a quick healer.

But that scream...that scream sounded female. Graham had no idea where they were but it didn’t seem the kind of welcoming place that they’d been expecting; if anything, it felt like more of a military camp; utilitarian, cold, and empty, from what he could make out. They’d only encountered one other person on their journey back - a watchman at the gates - but Graham had tried to make a mental map of the route they’d taken. He was observant. He hoped he’d get the chance to use it. 

The only saving grace was that the others weren’t here. With any luck, they’d find them. He had to hope so, because it seemed the Doctor needed their help.

His theory was proven right when several minutes later, the Doctor herself was manhandled back to the cell. The men took much greater care with her, though, lifting her carefully onto the stone bench along the wall. She was rambling, her arms and legs flailing sporadically as her eyes rolled backwards in her skull. 

“Doc?” Graham asked, shocked, knowing it was fruitless but unable to help himself. It was frightening to see her like this, deprived of her senses. What was even worse was the strange orange glow that seemed to surround her. It was at times like this that Graham realised he was travelling with an alien. That, and he was currently trapped on an alien planet. His life sometimes felt like a dream, or, in this case, a nightmare.

The men left the room without a word but Graham ignored them, shuffling over to take a closer look at his friend. Physically, she seemed ok; a bit paler than usual, perhaps, but her leg seemed to have healed. Whatever they’d done hadn’t left a visible mark. 

“Doc?” he repeated, desperate to get her attention. The Doctor’s head lolled lazily as she tried to focus her eyes on Graham’s face. They just about made it, and although she seemed a bit unfocused, Graham counted it as a victory that she could still see him.

“Graham?”

“Doc, what did they do to you?” he asked, afraid of the answer. 

To his surprise, a sardonic smile tugged at the Doctor’s lips.

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

She shivered, letting her eyes drift closed as she wrapped her arms around herself. 

Graham shrugged off his coat, feeling the chill instantly but keeping her comfortable was the least he could do. As he draped it over the Doctor’s body he noted that the eerie glow had faded somewhat, much to his relief. 

“I’m sure it’s alright and a good sign, not a bad one, but...you were glowing, Doc. And it’s stopped.”

The Doctor’s smile weakened slightly as she dozed and Graham wondered if she’d even heard him. 

“Regeneration energy,” she finally sighed, her head falling to one side as the words tumbled loose, like an afterthought. The movement exposed a patch on her neck that hadn’t been there before, but Graham had more important things to think about. Her response had left him dumbfounded. 

“You what?”

“Long story, Gr’hm. Tell you in the morning.”

Except there was no morning; simply a half-hour reprieve during which the Doctor slept fitfully. Then, she was once more taken away. It didn’t take long for the screaming to resume. Graham lifted his hands to his head, pressing his palms over his ears and trying to think of home. They’d get out of there. They had to. He wasn’t going to die on an alien planet and he certainly wasn’t going to let the Doctor die. But right now, he was stuck. The thought was enough to bring him to tears. 

The Doctor was eventually returned to him and this time, to his horror, she sounded even weaker than before. The shadows under her eyes were darker than they had been and her face looked like it had been drained of life. She looked like a ghost and Graham moved to her side as soon as he was able.

“Doc, are you with me?” He tapped her gently on the cheek, trying to rouse her and ignoring the coolness of the skin under his palm. She was freezing cold.

The Doctor could barely open her eyes and her voice was so quiet that Graham had to lean into hear it. When he did, his heart sank even further.

“Yaz? Where’s Yaz?”

The Doctor’s words were slurred and she groped blindly, eyes unfocused. 

“I need...Yaz.”

“I’m so sorry, Doc.” Graham heard his own voice breaking at the desperation in her voice. He’d had a feeling the two women were close but something about the way the Doctor was calling for Yaz suggested they were even closer than he’d thought. 

“Yaz is coming, Doc. She’s coming. But for now you’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

Graham tried to inject some humour into his tone as he reached for one of the Doctor’s roaming hands, holding it carefully as she started to make distressed sounds that hurt to hear. All the while, she kept murmuring Yaz’s name, over and over again. 

“I promise you, Doc. I promise we’re getting out of here. We’ll find Yaz.” 

But the Doctor was out like a light. Her brief period of consciousness had been even shorter than before and the eerie glow was back, although it seemed far less vibrant than before. It was like the Doctor was being drained. 

Graham sent up a silent prayer to whoever was listening, feeling the ache of the cold stone floor seep through his knees and into his bones. The pain anchored him, and kept his brain sharp. The Doctor needed his help and he’d be damned if he was going to let her down.

* * *

Yaz kept her mouth shut as she made her way through the trees. It was safest not to say anything, given the way her thoughts were spiralling. The logical side of her knew it wasn’t Ryan’s fault that the others had been captured, but she couldn’t help but hold him slightly responsible for the fact that they were now separated. That the Doctor, and Graham, were in danger. 

Ryan had tried to apologise but realised pretty quickly that Yaz wasn’t going to humour it. It wasn’t just anger he could sense; Yaz was desperate to find the others. 

“Yaz, we’re going to find them. I know we will.”

Yaz’s jaw clenched as she turned and finally spoke. 

“Oh really? How do you know?”

“Because I know you, Yaz. You aren’t going to give up. And I’m going to help you.”

Yaz visibly deflated at the moral support and sighed, impatiently swiping the hair from her eyes. The rain was still bucketing down and they’d given up any attempt to stay dry.

“We’ll find them. We’ll find the Doctor. I know how much she means to you, Yaz.”

Yaz hesitated. 

“Come on, mate. I can tell. Something feels...different. We can see it between you, you know. Me and Graham. You two are so close.”

“I dunno. We get on,” Yaz hedged, wondering how much she should admit. She hadn’t thought about telling the others this early in the day. She didn’t want to tempt fate. But then again, her time with the Doctor was never certain. It was part of what made their time together so special. 

“It’s more than that, Yaz,” Ryan pushed. “The whole dynamic has changed.”

“Oh. Really?” Yaz felt a wave of anxiety. A change in dynamic was exactly what she’d been hoping to avoid. 

Ryan seemed to pick up on her reservations and Yaz found herself feeling guilty over how she’d snapped at him.

“Not in a bad way. I mean...don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you, mate.”

Ryan nearly slipped in some mud and Yaz shot out a hand to stop him falling. He cast her a grateful look.

“But this can’t be my life, Yaz. Not for much longer. I miss home. My mates. We get into so much danger, Yaz. And the Doctor keeps getting into trouble. I can’t deal with the responsibility.”

Yaz kept quiet, trying to digest what he was telling her. She’d had no idea Ryan had felt like this, she’d been so swept up in the Doctor. She mentally kicked herself, feeling like she’d let him down.

“When she got trapped in that fire, I kept thinking I couldn’t get her out.”

“But you did, Ryan,” Yaz insisted. That much she knew was true.

Ryan scoffed. 

“Only cos you were there. I panicked, Yaz. I didn’t know what to do.”

Yaz stopped walking so abruptly that Ryan nearly walked into her. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Ryan. You got her out of there. I couldn’t have done it without you.” The rain was making it hard for her to show how deadly serious she was, but something must have sunk in because Ryan started to smile. 

“Yeah?” He seemed surprised, in need of convincing that Yaz was only too happy to provide and she nodded vehemently.

“Of course, Ryan. I’d let you know if you hadn’t pulled your weight. Trust me.”

Ryan laughed at that, and Yaz joined in. The tension between them since their earlier argument dissipated. 

“Come on, though. We need to keep moving.”

* * *

After another hour of walking, lost and on the lookout for traps, they practically stumbled upon the complex. In fact they nearly walked straight into it, it was so well camouflaged. It was only when Yaz heard rain hitting tin rooftops and looked up that she realised where they’d ended up. She had to assume it was the research base the Doctor had been trying to lead them to, although the low-rise buildings and barbed wire made it all seem a bit more military than scientific. She wondered, not for the first time, if things had changed since the Doctor had last visited this place. She’d assured them it was a state-of-the-art research facility that specialised in bringing back extinct animals but where they’d ended up looked far more sinister. 

After so long without signs of life, Yaz was certain that the Doctor and Graham had been taken to the complex. Her theory was confirmed when the sounds of screaming emanated from one of the buildings only metres away. Yaz felt her blood run cold. Although they were much closer, the screams were weaker than before, and no less tormented.

“Doctor,” Yaz muttered, starting to move before a strong grip pulled her back so hard that she nearly ended up landing on her backside.

“Yaz!” he hissed, barely audible above the rain. They couldn’t be too careful. “Yaz! Think! We can’t go rushing in.”

“She’s in pain, Ryan! Let go of me, right now,” Yaz hissed back, trying to pull her arm free. But Ryan held strong. 

“We don’t even know where they are in there. If they’re together. And we need to get them both out. I know that the Doctor is in trouble. But we need to use our brains, yeah?”

The screaming stopped, and Yaz deflated. She felt cold for the first time, utterly exhausted by the worry and the fear that had driven them to this point. They were so close, but Ryan was right. They needed to be smart. Before Yaz could think about what to do next, he tugged on her arm and pulled her backwards into a bush, just in time.

A man emerged from the building the screams had come from, walking only metres past them. Yaz could barely breathe, so frightened was she that they’d be discovered. There was no way they could be discovered, or none of them would make it back to the TARDIS. Both of them watched, silently, as he used a keycard to swipe into a building across the small clearing. 

Ryan nudged her in the ribs and pointed to a window on the side of the building. Yaz crept alongside, keeping herself out of sight, and peeked over the sill just enough to look inside. She suddenly wished she hadn’t, because strapped to a table was none other than the Doctor, and she was glowing. 

Yaz realised with a start that she wasn’t alone. A man was there, measuring something on a device, but the Doctor was clearly out of it and none the wiser as to what he was doing. Yaz could hear her mumbling through the glass and the sound broke her heart, not least because she was certain she could hear her own name. The man seemed unmoved by the Doctor’s distress, which was lucky for Yaz because he was so engrossed in whatever he was looking at that he didn’t see her at the window. 

She ducked her head, no longer able to watch. 

“Doctor. In there,” she gestured behind her with a thumb.

“No way. Graham?” Ryan whispered.

Yaz shook her head. She could feel her blood starting to boil, and her thoughts raced. They needed to do something. The seconds kept slipping away as Yaz hid, waiting for something to spring to mind. In the end, her legs did the thinking for her. 

The man inside eventually emerged and Yaz jumped him, taking both him and Ryan by surprise. Luckily, Ryan was quicker off the mark, helping her subdue the man and knock him out with a blow to the head and a muttered apology. Yaz couldn’t have cared less, though; she was seeing red, and still was when she opened the door and eased inside. 

After spending so long in the rain, it was strange to be indoors, but Yaz barely registered the change in environment. Instead, she made a beeline for the Doctor, reaching for her face as she tried to get her attention. 

“Doctor?” she asked, trying to keep her voice calm. 

The Doctor moaned softly, eyelids fluttering as Yaz gently tapped her cheeks. 

“That’s it, Doctor. Come on. Wake up.”

“Yaz?” Ryan entered the room, keycard in hand. He faltered when he saw the Doctor. 

“He had one of these,” he said, holding the card up and frowning. “How is she?”

“I’m not sure,” Yaz admitted, eyes still fixed on the Doctor’s face as she mumbled nonsense words. “She seems pretty out of it.”

“Hey, she’s glowing. She did that before.”

Yaz realised that Ryan was right. She’d been so worried about waking the Doctor that she hadn’t even noticed.

“Before? When?” Yaz had never seen it happen before and had no idea what it meant.

“That night we met. After the train. She passed out on the sofa, and did...that.”

The fact that the Doctor had done it before did little to reassure Yaz. She’d fallen through the roof of a train that night and had been acting out of sorts, to say the least; different to the Doctor she now knew and loved. 

“Come on, we need to find Graham.”

Yaz shook her head. “Help me get her out.”

The Doctor moaned again and Yaz felt her heart break at the sound. “It’s ok,” she soothed, reaching for the straps. There were so many of them and they were all pulled tight. 

“Yaz, she’s not going to be able to move. We find Graham first. He can help us. Strength in numbers, and all that.”

Yaz ducked her head, fingers fumbling with a release. She knew Ryan had a point, but it went against every fibre in her being to leave the Doctor alone like this, especially after they’d only just found her. 

“I promise, we can be quick. We’ll find him, get her out. All of us. Yaz, come on.”

Yaz sighed brokenly, letting her fingertips trace the Doctor’s cheek one last time. For courage. 

“I’ll be back. I promise,” she murmured, feeling sick at the thought of leaving her. 

Yaz resisted the urge to turn back because she knew if she did, she’d never want to leave. Instead she powered onwards, re-invigorated to find Graham and get the hell out of there. 

Luckily, the place was practically deserted. Yaz had to assume the weather had driven most people inside, although she and Ryan were careful to avoid the security cameras. The rain and the dark helped camouflage them and for the first time, Yaz was grateful for the terrible conditions. 

Ryan swiped them inside the building they’d seen the other man enter and they kicked off their muddy shoes in an attempt to minimise their trail. It was once again strange to be inside after so long in the wet; Yaz had to force herself to not think about the Doctor lying alone, vulnerable. They hadn’t heard any more screams yet, but it would surely only be a matter of time before the absence of the man they’d ambushed would register.

“Quick,” Yaz whispered, eyeing numerous doors lining the corridor. They had to start somewhere; this was as good a place as any, but as they made their way down, calling quietly for Graham, Yaz felt nausea turn her stomach. The scale of the task ahead of them seemed insurmountable, and they were nowhere near out of danger. If anything, they were moving further and further into dangerous territory the further they moved inside.

Every second that passed in tense silence was a second too long, by Yaz’s watch. Increasingly desperate, she was wondering if they should just start shouting for Graham when they finally heard a response from one of the doors. 

“That’s him!” Ryan exclaimed, fumbling for the keycard and swiping the door. Fortune was on their side and it opened automatically, bringing them face to face with a very anxious-looking Graham.

“There you are,” he joked, but Yaz could see the effort it cost him to keep the mood light. “Was wondering where you’d got to. Have you found the Doc?”

Yaz nodded grimly. “We need to get her out of here.”

“Lead the way,” Graham replied. “I can’t wait to get off this planet.”

Their journey back to the Doctor was no less fraught - at one point, they were nearly spied by a patrolling guard - but Yaz felt safer with Graham there. And when he saw the Doctor, she knew exactly how he felt from the look on his face.

“She kept coming back so...out of it,” he explained, easing the door shut behind them. His face was pinched and completely devoid of any of its characteristic humour. “The bastards.”

“Help me get her out,” Yaz urged, rain-slick fingers still fumbling with the ties. Between them, it seemed to take endless minutes to free the Doctor, but in reality it couldn’t have taken more than a couple.

Just as Yaz was loosening a strap around the Doctor’s arm, she started to stir properly. Her eyes opened groggily and fixed on Yaz almost immediately, even though it was clear that focusing them was an issue. Yaz fumbled with the material, gritting her teeth as she struggled to relax the tension. She could sense Graham and Ryan move away as she succeeded in loosening the bond and the Doctor was finally freed.

Her fingertips were stinging but Yaz couldn’t have cared less, nor did she care about who else was in the room. She pressed her fingers to the Doctor’s cheeks, leaning down and kissing her softly. It seemed like a more efficient way to announce her presence and reassure herself, all at once.

The Doctor hummed softly. 

“You’re very nice. Who are you?”

Yaz was certain her heart had leapt into her throat. 

“Oh god.” She turned to the others. “What have they done to her?” 

The question was rhetorical - Yaz wasn’t expecting an answer - and both of them looked visibly shellshocked. It was hard to tell if it was because of the kiss or what the Doctor had said. 

“Drugged her, I think. That patch.” Graham pointed to the Doctor’s neck and Yaz finally saw the plastic stuck to the soft skin under her ear. It was an area Yaz loved to kiss and she hated seeing it covered. Without a second thought, she started to peel it off.

“It’s me, Doctor. Yaz. You know me, I promise you do.”

Yaz kept her voice level, strong. If she let slip how terrified she was, she knew they’d struggle to get out of there.

“Yaz,” the Doctor grinned dopily. “That’s a nice name.”

Yaz faltered. The thought that the Doctor might have lost her memories popped into her head and she said as much, but Graham shook his head. 

“They brought her back, before, Yaz. She remembered me. The drugs just need to wear off, I think.”

Throughout, Ryan had been silent and Graham took the opportunity to take him to one side. As they talked quietly, Yaz focused her attention on the Doctor once more. 

“We need to get you out of here, Doctor. Do you think you can stand?”

The Doctor lifted an arm to rub at her eyes, squinting at the light and then at Yaz’s face. 

“Yaz? Is that you?”

“Oh god,” Yaz sobbed. She’d never been so relieved.

“I am. I’m here, sweetheart.” The sentiment slipped out without thought. Yaz could feel her cheeks burning with the effort not to cry but her vision was blurred by unshed tears as she cradled the Doctor’s face in her hands. They’d only been apart for a few hours, but Yaz had missed her face so much it had hurt. 

“Oh good. Good on you, Yaz. Always there for me, eh?”

Yaz sniffed.

“Yeah. I am. You know why?”

The Doctor’s eyes flickered closed and Yaz tried not to panic. 

“Because I love you. And I'm getting you out of here. _ We're _ getting you out, right?”

Yaz turned to look at the others for confirmation but when she looked back, the Doctor had passed out. 

“Okay,” she exhaled shakily. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The journey back to the TARDIS was one of the most terrifying and arduous they’d ever had to make, not least because the Doctor was incapable of helping them. Escaping the complex had been deceptively simple, but Yaz wasn’t going to think too closely about what might happen once their escape had been discovered. The TARDIS was far enough away that they should be relatively safe, she hoped. It wasn’t like the Doctor was going to be in any fit state to pilot them out of there, but she’d mentioned something about improving the perception filter and Yaz had to assume they might be hidden in plain sight once they were through the doors. Once they were through those doors, they should be safe. Nobody could get through. Yaz kept picturing it in her mind and the thought kept her going as they re-traced their steps back to safety, carrying their precious cargo. 

On the plus side, the rain had stopped. Two moons emerged from behind the clouds and helped light the way back, meaning that Ryan could use both hands to help rather than having to light the way with his phone. 

By the time they made it back to the TARDIS, every muscle was burning with exhaustion. As if she’d been expecting them, the TARDIS doors opened automatically as they entered, and Yaz didn’t even bother removing her shoes; there was no way they could stop until the Doctor was deposited safely on a comfortable bed. 

It just so happened that Yaz’s was the closest. 

They moved wordlessly, more than aware of the quiet noises and whimpers the Doctor was making, but she’d yet to awaken fully. Yaz wondered if that was a blessing or a curse.

“I think I need a lie down,” Graham groaned, straightening up and wincing once they’d deposited their precious cargo. Ryan looked equally winded and Yaz...well, Yaz could have done with a long hot bath and several hours of sleep. But she had more important things to worry about and she started removing the Doctor’s boots. 

“You guys get out of here. I’ll look after her.”

To their credit, they both hesitated. 

Yaz cracked a smile, the first in what felt like days. She let the boots fall to the floor and opted to perch on the side of the bed. It would have been impolite, given their company, to crawl in and join the Doctor, even if it was all she felt like doing.

“Honestly, go. It’s ok. I’ll let you know if we need anything.”

“Despite appearances,” Graham said, indicating the Doctor’s sickly pallor, “she’s a lucky woman.”

Yaz felt herself blushing at the recognition. 

“You know, I didn’t realise it was that serious,” he continued. 

“Me neither,” Yaz admitted. “Or after all this time...maybe I did. From day one.”

Graham smiled but Yaz’s attention was fixed on the Doctor’s face, which had started to show signs of distress. 

“She was calling for you. I think she’s been hallucinating. God knows what they gave her.”

Yaz smoothed some hair away from the Doctor’s forehead. It had started to curl as it dried. 

As if on cue, the Doctor started to call for Yaz again, as if she could sense her presence.

“Come on, Ryan.” Graham gave Yaz a grandfatherly pat on the shoulder before they left the room. 

“It’s alright, Doctor. I’m here,” Yaz murmured, continuing to stroke her forehead. Whether it was the words or the motion, or both, they seemed to have a calming effect and the crease between the Doctor’s brows eased. 

The peaceful hum of the TARDIS and the ebbing adrenaline left Yaz utterly winded in a way that she felt so viscerally that she had no choice but to rest. With the others finally gone, she kicked off her own shoes and clumsily tugged at the covers, sliding into bed and sighing loudly as she felt the pressure on her aching limbs finally ease. She didn’t remember falling asleep but the next thing she knew, a cool hand was stroking her cheek.

Yaz let her eyes open slowly, wondering where she was. It was disorientating after such a chaotic day, but as soon as she saw the Doctor’s face so close to her own, she knew she was safe. 

“Hey,” she mumbled, voice hoarse with sleep and overuse, and possibly the beginnings of a cold after so long spent in the rain. With a wince she realised she’d fallen asleep in wet clothes. 

“Hey yourself, Yaz.”

The Doctor seemed more alert, more alive than she had done the last time Yaz had seen her; her eyes were twinkling and engaged and full of life. It was almost as if Yaz had dreamt the whole thing. Almost. 

“You were glowing.”

Of all the things to start with, Yaz wondered why she’d gone there, but she forgave herself on account of exhaustion. 

“Ah. Yes. Regeneration energy. They saw me use it to heal my leg, and…”

The Doctor trailed off as her hand fell away from Yaz’s face. Her eyes glazed over and Yaz realised she was remembering what had happened. Whatever she said next, Yaz knew she had to try and stop the Doctor looking quite so distressed.

“Hey, hey. Don’t worry. Come here a sec.”

Yaz eased an arm around the Doctor’s waist, pulling herself closer for a cuddle. 

“We’ll talk later. Are you alright?”

Yaz still felt half-asleep and the late hour gave proceedings a strange aura. Late-night conversations always seemed so much more brutally honest and there was no way she was going to ask the Doctor to tell her what had happened when it was all still so fresh. Yaz herself was still reeling from seeing the Doctor trapped like a lab animal. The question of torture was an elephant in the room but Yaz didn’t feel like it was the right time to address it. 

Instead, she memorised the Doctor’s face as they watched each other. 

“Yeah. I think. I am now, anyway.”

“Good,” Yaz smiled softly, pushing away her own thoughts and fears to offer as much comfort as she could. “You’re safe. We’re safe.” 

The Doctor nodded.

“I should probably get us out of here, get us moving-”

She tried to move but Yaz tightened her hold on her waist, keeping her still. 

“Just stay a little longer?”

The Doctor frowned in confusion. 

“I’ve missed you so much. I need to see your face. Refresh my memory.”

The Doctor seemed to pale at that and Yaz knew she’d said something wrong. 

“What is it?”

“My face...one of these days, it might change, Yaz. You might not like it as much, then.”

Yaz swallowed hard, trying to think of the right thing to say. Luckily, the Doctor saved her from having to. 

“The regeneration energy they stole from me, it’s what I use to renew myself.”

“Like when you fell through the train?” Yaz asked, remembering the Doctor’s reference to a white-haired Scotsman. She tried and failed to imagine her Doctor looking like that.

“Yes. It keeps me alive, but it means I change. I look different when I use it.”

Yaz felt a lump in her throat. This energy kept the Doctor alive, and...

“And they stole it?”

The Doctor ducked her head. 

“That’s terrible,” Yaz gasped, wondering how it would even be possible. She had so many questions to ask but she bit her tongue. The Doctor would tell her in her own time. And to Yaz's immense surprise, after such a traumatic day, that time was now.

“The drug they gave me made me think I’d died. Over and over again. They distracted me while they drained it from me.”

“What the-”

Yaz broke off, speechless, and pulled the Doctor closer to her, alarmed and horrified. Rage and sadness warred with one another and she could feel her heart thumping in her chest, reminding her how very human she was, how frail and mortal, and how very non-human the Doctor was. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, hot tears finally escaping as she pictured what had happened. She could feel the Doctor shrug lightly in her hold. 

“I’m a rare specimen.”

“Don’t you dare use that word,” Yaz pulled back, sniffing as she angrily wiped the tears from her cheeks. “You are nothing of the sort. You’re the Doctor. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met and this face of yours? This face is the face I love.” 

Yaz paused, letting the word sink in. 

“And I’m not letting it go anywhere. Not just yet.”

The Doctor didn’t say a word but she looked at Yaz in a way that took her breath away. While she might normally have been a woman of words, with one look she conveyed everything she felt from the depths of her hazel eyes and left Yaz speechless. She knew then, despite the words not being uttered, exactly how the Doctor felt. 

_ She loves me, too. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can find me on twitter @_mag_lex
> 
> All my fics can now be found at maglexfic dot wordpress dot com. I'll be posting all new works there going forward and not on ao3 so I'd recommend checking it out and subscribing!


	7. Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly shorter chapter but only because it kind of wraps a few things up! Thanks for bearing with me while I've got this one out 🙂

Of all the places in the universe, it was a dark and dingy estate in Sheffield where Yasmin Khan discovered the true meaning of love. It happened as her life passed right before her very eyes. 

The blow had come as a surprise and hadn’t felt like much at first - a brutal thump to the chest, like a punch. Yaz was certain she’d even taken a few more steps before reality had hit, delayed by the simple fact that her heart had managed to beat, undamaged, one final time before impact. Just long enough to keep her moving for those final few seconds. Then, her life had changed. 

She’d raised a hand to her chest and felt something lodged there. It felt instantly wrong. Foreign. The lad who’d done it had looked horrified, then simply turned and ran. Yaz had tried to call out but the words were lost somewhere between her brain and her mouth, diverted by the shock of a foreign object being rudely embedded snugly between her ribs.

Her knees were throbbing slightly from where she’d fallen to them and if Yaz had been less numb, she might have acknowledged the fact that her neck was at a terribly awkward angle, shoved up against the brick wall as the rest of her body lay crumpled on the ground. Distantly, she wondered if it would be best to lay flat and make it easier for whatever blood she had left circulating to reach her brain, but her limbs were numb. It was a blessing in disguise because if she was able to feel pain, Yaz was certain she’d have been in agony. 

Instead, she was in shock, staring down at the knife that was still embedded in her chest. 

Why hadn’t she worn her vest? She’d get a right telling off. Her mum would never forgive her, either.

That was, if she even made it out of here. The chances were slim to none, she knew, and yet part of her stubbornly refused to believe it. 

Yaz attempted to call for help but found she was now unable to even move her arm to the radio on her vest. The thought should have alarmed her but instead, Yaz mused that she didn’t really care. Moving was a monumental effort and she was so damn tired. She just needed a moment to rest. And given the rapidly spreading wet patch on the front of her uniform, Yaz had a feeling that even if she did radio for help, it would arrive too late. Thinking about that sent a wave of panic through her and she knew that would only make things worse, so Yaz focused instead on keeping her breathing steady and ignoring the desperate need to cough. She knew it would hurt and she was sure all she’d do was bring up even more blood, judging from the trickle that had made its way from the corner of her mouth to her chin.

Instead, she wondered what the Doctor was doing, right at this very second. What the Doctor had been doing when Yaz had been stabbed on duty. She wondered if she would ever see the Doctor's face again. After a long stretch of not feeling anything in particular, Yaz finally felt a horrible wrench of mental agony at the concept. 

In an attempt to grasp hold of the one bright spark that remained, Yaz imagined the Doctor’s face in her mind, which was easier to do when she closed her eyes, and she did so with relief. It felt like capitulation but the pay-off was immense. 

Glimpses of their adventures flitted through her brain, easing her anguish. She pictured the profile of the Doctor’s face, the slope of her nose, the curve of her jaw, the way her lips quirked and moved as she told silly jokes or tried to make Yaz smile. The softness of her hair as it caught the light. The feel of her hands as she touched Yaz’s skin when she reached out in a moment of excitement, or concern, or passion. The way she made Yaz feel, which was impossible to describe and simplest to feel. Yaz was going to miss all of those things so much and it didn’t seem fair that they’d been ripped away from her so brutally.

She had no idea how long the images lasted but at some point, she felt a different kind of sensation. A light pressure. Was someone touching her? That couldn’t be right. She’d have heard sirens, heard the backup arriving. But she hadn't called for backup in the end, had she? She really was alone. Her mind was clearly conjuring things up far too efficiently. Maybe it was a protective mechanism, of some sort. A comfort as she lay dying, to pretend that someone else was there. 

“Yaz?”

She was sure she could hear a voice, now. A familiar one. Yaz wanted to laugh at the cruel tricks her mind was playing on her. The Doctor was not there. She kept her eyes firmly closed, concentrating on the hallucinations in her mind and taking comfort from them. She could at least pretend she wasn’t going to die alone. 

“Yaz? Can you hear me?”

Yaz could feel herself being moved, a muttered apology from a voice that sounded so concerned that it actually made her start to worry. 

Cool fingers on her cheek. 

“Yaz, come on. Wake up. I know you’re still with me.”

“I’m fine.” Her lips felt numb and Yaz realised she was freezing cold. It felt like she’d been to the dentist; those two words took a monumental effort and they fell from her lips on a current of empty air. Breathing was no longer autonomic but a deliberate and painful necessity. Speaking made breathing even harder.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you very much are not fine, Yasmin Khan. And you’re not leaving me.”

The stubborn determination sounded even more familiar and prompted Yaz to force her eyelids open. Her vision was blurry and she didn’t trust what she was seeing. Her body was shutting down. And yet….

“What?” she slurred, befuddled. There was no way that could have been the Doctor. How would she have found her, for a start? 

She looked so real. Yaz tried to reach out for her, to feel her, but the other woman beat her to it and held her hand within her own. 

“You’re not going to like this, Yaz, and I’m very, very sorry. But I need to do it to fix this.”

“What?” Yaz repeated, letting her eyes close again. If she had to speak, she was going to rest her eyes. It felt like she’d just woken up from an epic sleep and moved straight into a nightmare. Even the gravel under her back was sharp, an uncomfortable reminder that she wasn’t actually dreaming, at all. 

There was pressure at her side and then a sudden movement that brought tears to her eyes as the blade between her ribs was removed in one swift motion. Once again, there was a delay of milliseconds and then her nervous system realised what had happened and decided to tell her about it. Repeatedly. Her legs shifted on the ground but there was a weight on them; Yaz blinked her eyes open as she tried to catch her breath and saw blue trousers braced across her shins. 

But her sight was flashing red and starting to blacken around the edges and as Yaz tried to breathe in again, she found she couldn’t. Panic made her eyes widen and she wheezed as her lungs feebly tried to draw in breath. It felt like she was drowning and it was the singular most unpleasant thing she’d ever experienced. All of a sudden, she just wanted it to be over. She coughed and wanted to scream at the pain, heedless of the rush of hot blood that escaped her mouth. 

The person sitting on her legs had other ideas. 

“Hold on just a sec,” the woman frowned, closing her eyes to concentrate. Then, she started to glow. 

Yaz knew she must be seeing things. And feeling things, because her hand started to tingle. At first she thought it might be pins and needles thanks to a loss of blood pressure but then the tingling grew into a warmth that suffused her entire arm. As the seconds passed, Yaz felt like every cell in her body was infused with energy. The gaping hole in her side felt less raw, less agonising. With every second that passed, Yaz found herself reviving. 

Eventually, she felt strong enough to fully open her eyes. Her breathing had eased and the world looked distinctly less grey.

It was the Doctor. Of course it was. She was still frowning, still glowing, and she looked just as ethereal as before. 

After a long moment she gasped, the glow receding as she finally let go of Yaz’s hand. She slumped, looking paler than Yaz had ever seen her. 

“Doctor?” she murmured, thoroughly confused about what had just happened. Was she still dreaming? The strange sensations in her body suggested otherwise. She felt like she really needed to stretch, sneeze, and yawn all at once. And she also felt very much more alive than she had done just moments previously, and with that realisation came the distinct discomfort of just how she’d been lying. Her clothes were saturated, cold and clinging to her torso. Yaz raised a shaking hand to wipe away the blood from her chin, shocked at how much of it smeared her skin when she pulled it away. She slumped back onto her elbows, breathing in air that she was certain had never tasted so sweet. 

The Doctor’s breathing, on the other hand, seemed slightly laboured. She crossed her legs in an attempt to keep herself sitting upright, propping herself up on her hands. After a long moment she finally raised her head, casting a tired smile in Yaz’s direction. 

“That was a close one,” she murmured, eyes watering. “I thought I’d missed you.”

Her words were careful but Yaz knew what she meant. She thought she’d been too late.

“What did you do?” Yaz asked. 

“Lent you some regeneration energy.”

“Regeneration- Doctor, won’t you need that?”

Yaz cast her mind back to the last time she’d seen the Doctor glowing. She’d been tortured, her energy harvested and taken from her. It was clearly incredibly valuable; for a start, the Doctor never seemed to use it on herself, despite the number of times she'd been gravely hurt. 

“You never use it yourself,” Yaz noted. “Why?”

“Emergency measures only,” the Doctor conceded, gritting her teeth. Although Yaz felt a hell of a lot better than she had done, she still felt shocked at what had happened. The stabbing was one thing but the fact that the Doctor had seemingly sacrificed a part of herself was almost beyond comprehension and it was upsetting.

“Why did you do that?” Yaz asked, alarmed at the Doctor’s pallor. 

“Because,” the Doctor shrugged. 

“But all of those times you were hurt, Doctor. Why did you use it on me?”

“I had to save it for something worthwhile.”

Yaz wanted to cry. 

“It only knocks a few years off, though,” the Doctor grinned, something of her old self returning. “Besides, you really needed a doctor.”

“You gave your life for me?”

“Just a little.”

Yaz shook her head. 

“What if it was just my time? That's going to happen eventually.”

“Not now. And not if I can help it,” the Doctor replied, stubbornly. “Can't have a universe with no Yaz, can we? And I certainly can’t imagine a universe without you. Not now. Not after everything."

The sentiment was like a punch to the gut and Yaz eased herself upright, ignoring the Doctor’s protests that she should rest for a moment. She flopped down next to her, legs wobbly, and wrapped an arm around the Doctor’s shoulders. Yaz wondered what they looked like, one blood-soaked police officer and a half-dead alien, sitting in some grimy alley in one of the roughest estates in Yorkshire. But she didn’t care. She felt alive, in more ways than one. 

“I love you,” she murmured, placing a clumsy kiss on the Doctor’s cheek and leaning into the touch. She was so tired.

“You should rest a moment, Yaz. I’ll be here.”

* * *

The next time Yaz opened her eyes, she was at home. For a second, she couldn't remember how she got there. Flashes of recent events stirred in her brain but Yaz simply couldn't reconcile them with where she was. It was confusing, passing out in one place and waking up in another. She didn’t even know what day it was, now that she thought about it. 

Yaz raised a hand to her chest, feeling her ribs rise and fall easily. Her heart was thudding solidly inside. She was intact. If anything, the whole scenario she was remembering felt like some strange dream. The material of her pyjamas was soft beneath her hand, a stark contrast to her ruined police uniform.

Except, when she looked to her side, the Doctor was there. She’d fallen asleep in a chair beside her bed, head tilted back in a way that looked distinctly uncomfortable. It hadn’t been a dream after all. But a wave of exhaustion passed over her again and she succumbed to it willingly, unable to process what had happened.

The next time Yaz awoke, people were talking about her. She remained still, eyes closed. 

“You sure you don’t want some tea, Doctor?”

“Honest. I think I’ll be bouncing off the ceiling if I have any more caffeine,” the Doctor replied, "even more than usual." 

Even with her eyes closed, Yaz could sense the nervous energy from her voice alone. 

"It's the least I can do, Doctor. I think you probably saved my daughter's life."

_ She had. She really had. _Yaz let that sink in while she listened to the Doctor gloss over the matter like it was trivial. 

"I owed her one. Well, several, actually, if we include the time she saved me from choking on a custard cream."

There was the light sound of Najia's laughter and Yaz almost opened her eyes in shock at the sound. Her mum and the Doctor, getting on? Perhaps she really had died and woken up in a parallel universe. To this day, Najia still grumbled about the bloodstains the Doctor had left in the carpet and had refused to indulge her unorthodox methods of removing them after witnessing her set fire to their toaster. But Yaz secretly wondered if her mum just used the subject to ask Yaz about her, because the topic of conversation usually turned to the Doctor more generally whenever she brought it up. 

"I remember when you showed up looking worse for wear,” Najia said, as if she'd heard Yaz's thoughts. "Yaz was terrified."

"Pretty sure she just got her own back," the Doctor murmured, and then someone was holding Yaz's hand. Judging by the coolness of the fingers wrapped around hers, it had to be the Doctor. Yaz's first instinct was to pull away and hide the evidence from her mum but then the jig would be up. She wanted to hear what else they had to say.

"I'm just glad you were there, Doctor. Even though I don't quite understand what happened, or if she should even be sleeping this long. I thought sleep was bad for concussions?"

Yaz wondered what the Doctor had told her mum. Whatever story she'd spun was blatantly a lie and for that she was grateful. She was still coming to terms with the fact that she'd nearly died and the last thing she needed was her mum freaking out about it. 

"She just needs to rest," the Doctor replied. "But you should know that whatever happens, I'd never let any harm come to Yaz."

The earnestness of her tone deprived Najia of a response for a long moment. 

"I can't help but ask, Doctor... what's going on with you two?"

"I think it's probably easiest if you hear it from Yaz. Pretty sure I'd get my words mixed up."

"Somehow I doubt that. Even though I don't understand what you're talking about half the time, I think you know just as well as I do how you feel. It's simple. Do you love her? That's all I need to know."

"With every part of me," the Doctor replied, without hesitation. 

Yaz almost choked in surprise, but the movement was enough to alert the others that she was, in fact, not asleep

"Had a feeling you were listening in," the Doctor murmured, and Yaz finally opened her eyes to see both women watching her expectantly: the Doctor with a soft smile on her face and her mum, looking at the pair of them with a similar expression. 

"I think I'll make that tea after all," Najia said. "But when I come back I want to hear about what happened, Yaz. Sounds like you had an awful time of it, love."

"Yeah," Yaz muttered. "Something like that."

The moment her mum left the room, she turned to look at the Doctor. She looked much like her old self, if a little tired. 

"How long was I asleep?" 

"A few hours. Just long enough to patch up the last bits and pieces, knit together the worst of the damage."

"You should rest, too," Yaz insisted, running her fingers through the Doctor's hair. The other woman captured her hand and kissed the palm of it, her lips soft and ticklish against the skin there. Yaz relished the touch. 

"I'll rest once I know you're back to normal."

Yaz knew the Doctor would refuse to budge and with her mum due back, it wasn't like she could invite the Doctor into bed with her.

"I still can't quite believe what happened," she said. She had a feeling that near-death experiences might take some getting used to. But the reality paled in comparison to what the Doctor had told her mum.

"I also can't believe you just told my mum that you loved me. Before you told me," Yaz added wryly.

The Doctor squeezed her hand, distraught.

"Oh Yaz, how could I not. I thought you knew."

"I hoped you might, I just never heard you say the words. Stupid, I know." Yaz felt foolish. Of course the Doctor loved her. She just showed it through actions, rather than words.

The Doctor shook her head.

"I should know better by now," she insisted. "I'll have to make it up to you and tell you when I think about it. Which is a lot, by the way, but I'd rather risk overdoing it than you think otherwise."

Yaz shifted as she laughed. "We can work on it. We’ll look after one another, right, Doctor?"

"Always." 

"But if you ever do anything so self-sacrificial again, I'll kill you."

"Surely that defeats the point?" the Doctor frowned. 

"Figure of speech," Yaz smiled. "Now shut up and kiss me."

The Doctor did one better. Rather than leaning in to her lips she moved so that her head was hovering above Yaz's chest and kissed the material resting above her heart. She lingered there long enough that Yaz brought her hand to rest on the back of her head, holding her close.

"To the best and bravest heart in the universe. I'll do whatever I can to keep it safe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can find me on twitter @_mag_lex
> 
> All my fics can now be found at maglexfic dot wordpress dot com. I'll be posting all new works there going forward and not on ao3 so I'd recommend checking it out and subscribing!

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, you can find me on Tumblr (maglex) or Twitter (@_mag_lex). And if you have any particular whump prompts I'm always open to those!


End file.
